The Archdemon Must Die!
by DemonChick344
Summary: Three young and very different Wardens must save Fereldan by whatever means possible. Join them as they journey across the land, leaving confusion and sometimes horror in their wake. Because everybody knows that The Archdemon Must Die! Humour fic!
1. The Warden Recruits

**Hey guys, this is my new story, The Archdemon Must Die! In reality, it should have been up a couple of weeks ago, but I was given some inspiring advice (by mutive, and check out her Dragon Age stories, they're awesome!) and felt the need to rewrite. Now, this is my humorous take on the Blight, so there will be some Duncan bashing and 'That's what she said' jokes. There might also be some epic battle scenes.**

**All seven origins will be included in this story, but they don't all take the Joining at Ostagar and become Grey Wardens. I think that four Origins are mentioned in the first chapter, and I'll introduce the rest slowly and separately, so you can get a better feel of their personalities. So now, without further ado, I present to you – The Archdemon Must Die!**

"Nils, tighten that helmet strap. Raeus, if you think that armour is clean you're wrong – put some elbow grease into it!" Ser Cauthrien, dressed in massive plate, made her way through rows of soldiers under her command. "Dalien, take that sword to the blacksmith and have him fix that crosspiece – hullo, it's a Cousland," She paused and surveyed Elissa grimly, hands on her hips. Her expression changed after a few seconds, and the older woman grinned. Elissa Cousland stood before the pavilion set aside for the company of Maric's Shield, her Mabari at her side.

"Ser Cauthrien," Elissa smiled. "You look well."

"As well as one could be, trying to get this lot into shape," The Knight stepped forward and hugged Elissa, their armour clanging together loudly. "What about you, Elissa?" Cauthrien continued. "I heard what happened..."

Elissa sighed.

"It hasn't been easy. Being recruited into the Wardens didn't help" Elissa tried to smile, but failed. "Duncan conscripted me, but on the way to Ostagar all I thought about was running back to Highever and beheading Howe. What he did was so...horrible. I found my nephew and sister-in-law lying in their blood."

Cauthrien opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes focused on something over Elissa's shoulder, widening in shock. Elissa turned around slowly, and shook her head.

"By the Maker, what is happening over there?" They were staring towards where the quartermaster had set up his shop, where a series of furious shouts and crashing sounds were now resounding from behind the screen of trees.

"Gods," Elissa said tiredly. "It sounds like that Seryll, gone off on another one of her rants."

"Seryll?" Cauthrien asked cautiously.

"Yes, Seryll Tabris, a fellow Warden recruit. I swear she's quite insane."

...

"You think_ I'm_ an errand elf?" The blond elf exploded, sweeping long hair back behind her ears, "You think that I was sent here to run messages for you, human?"

The quartermaster shifted uneasily and glanced nervously at the two very sharp steel daggers sheathed at the elf's belt. This was no normal elf...maybe she was Dalish? He probably shouldn't have insulted her.

"You humans are all the same! I ought to gut you and feed you to Mabari hounds! Do you know who I am?" She drew herself up and glared imperiously at the quartermaster with emerald eyes.

"N-no," He stammered, voice breaking.

"Well! You should! I am a Warden recruit!"

"For Paragon Aeducan's sake," muttered a female dwarf, appearing from another part of the camp. The quartermaster blinked and took another step back, staring warily at this stout newcomer. "Shut up, Tabris. I've known you for a month and I already feel like bloody well killing you!" The dwarf folded her arms and glared at the elf.

"You think you can treat me like this?" The elf demanded. "You – you damn royal brat! You're so up yourself! No wonder you were exiled!"

The quarter master began to slowly edge away from the two arguing females.

"No," The dwarf said slowly. "I was exiled from Orzammer because I was trying to _better _the _casteless_."

The elf furrowed her eyebrows and wrinkled her nose.

"I thought you were exiled from Orzammer because you killed your brother?"

"It was a myriad of things," the dwarf gritted her teeth. "Now I suggest we move before he calls the guards in fright."

The elf and the dwarf turned around and walked away. Legs shaking, the quartermaster breathed a sigh of relief.

He was _never _going to confront a strange elf again.

...

Teyrn Loghain was sitting in his tent, staring at a map of Ostagar when there was a ripping sound from the tent-cloth. The warrior drew his sword quietly, standing up and stepping towards the long slit that had just been made in the tent wall. Seconds later, a slim elf dressed in leathers stepped through.

Loghain cleared his throat. "You there. What are you doing?" He asked, lowering his sword slightly.

"Shh," the elf hissed. Loghain was taken aback. No one told the Hero of River Dane to 'shh'.

"Well?" Loghain snapped. "Quickly girl, before I have my guards drag you out!"

"I'm hiding from Aeducan," the elf said, flopping onto his makeshift bed and reaching towards a bowl of cherries. She popped one into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully.

Loghain cringed, thinking to himself, _there is a filthy, immoral elf rolling around in my bed. Oh, how Celia would turn in her grave if she saw this. _He shook his head, and said;

"Aeducan..?"

"One of the other Warden recruits. I don't really like her. She's short and bossy and was exiled from Orzammer because she killed her brother and did some other shit. I like Elissa better, even if she _is _a noble."

Loghain sent a quick prayer to Andraste, hoping that the elf would be gone soon. Imagine if someone else walked in to find a strange elf in his bed! His reputation would be tarnished beyond repair!

"Please leave," Loghain said to the elf, who shrugged and stood up.

"Whatever, she's probably gone now anyway." With that, she stepped out of the large rent she had made in the tent wall, leaving Loghain seething.

No one, not even _Anora _(who was the queen of Fereldan and his daughter)_, _said 'whatever' to Loghain. Especially not some depraved elf who had snuck into his tent.

"Daniel!" Loghain snapped. One of his guards entered the tent, saluting.

"Yes sir?"

"Have this bedding burnt and replaced," Loghain instructed. "And for Maker's sake, have someone sew up this rent in my tent."

"Of course, sir. I'll have an elf sent right away-"

"A human servant will be better, thank you," Loghain said quickly, dismissing the guard.

...

"You there," Rachel said to the grey-haired female. "Who are you?"

"My goodness, a dwarf!" the lady simpered. "I did not see you down there, my little friend. I am Wynne, a mage."

Rachel was nonplussed. Gorim had told her that human mages were supposedly fearsome creatures, capable of much destruction. Yet here was an elderly specimen of a human female, sitting in a rocking chair beneath a tree and darning socks. _Socks. _

"Well," said Rachel. "My friend has gone missing. She is about six inches taller than me-"

"I think it's cute that you're short," Wynne pinched Rachel's cheek and returned to her darning. Rachel felt her temper rise. She was a dwarven warrior. She was not 'cute'. Rachel turned on her feet and left angrily.

Wynne shrugged and returned to her darning, feeling as though she had _nearly _pissed off enough young people today.

...

"Excuse me," Elissa said to Duncan. "Why are you looking at my Mabari like that?"

Duncan looked at the huge dog, and smiled.

"Are you a cute puppy? I think you are!" He turned to Elissa and continued. "Can I have him?"

"Impossible," Elissa said firmly. "He has been imprinted on me. If you were to try and take him from me, he would rip your throat out. But you can have him for an hour, if you want."

Duncan beamed.

"Stay," Elissa said to Ser Galahad. The Mabari cocked his head, whining, and she nodded.

...

"Human Lord!"

Cailan turned around, scanning the surroundings for the owner of the voice. Eventually he looked down to see Rachel Aeducan glaring back up at him.

"Oh, hello! Do you want to play chess?" Cailan asked.

"Yes, yes, and then we'll braid each other's hair and talk about boys. I think not," Rachel said scornfully. "I wonder, have you seen Seryll Tabris?"

"The elf who told me I was a giant prick and that I was a bad ruler?" Cailan rolled his eyes. "Yes, I have. She's up there. Bye!" he left, heading back towards the main camp.

Rachel shaded her eyes and looked up at the giant fir tree Cailan had pointed at. Sure enough, right at the top, was a slim figure with flowing blond hair, sitting amongst the swaying branches.

Rachel cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "Tabris!"

The figure above ignored her.

"Tabris!" after trying twice more, Rachel decided something else was in order. She crouched on the ground and grabbed a fist sized jagged piece of rock. Rachel drew her arm back, and threw it as hard as she could.

...

Seryll, who was looking at the supposed battlefield from her seat atop the enormous fir, ducked as a rock sailed past her head. She looked down, and saw a familiar stout figure standing near the bottom, looking right back up at her.

"TABRIS!" Aeducan shouted.

"Oh, all right," Seryll grumbled, and began to climb down.

...

"Where are we going?" Seryll asked Rachel as the dwarf dragged her up a stone ramp.

"To find the Junior Warden. I believe his name is 'Alison'. We must ask him to help us find the other Warden recruits," Rachel pointed at two humans arguing in another section of the ruins. One was wearing splintmail, while the other appeared to be a mage.

"Is Alison the blond one?"

"Duncan described him as such," Rachel pursed her lips.

"I was even going to name one of my children after you," The human in splintmail told the mage, putting his hands on his hips, "The _grumpy _one!"

"Horrible joke," Elissa said, walking towards them. "Sorry, I was just talking to Ser Cauthrien. Is that Alistair?"

The blond male, who had finished arguing, strode over, his armour clanking.  
"Isn't it just _wonderful _how the blight brings people together?" He asked them, smiling brightly. He then looked at each of them separately, and added, "I really hope none of you are mages."

"Dwarves cannot be mages, little boy," Rachel sneered. Elissa snorted and Seryll just laughed, while the male cracked a grin.

"I'm Alistair," he introduced. "I am a junior Warden here at Ostagar."

Seryll turned to Rachel and glared. "You told me his name was Alison. You liar!"

Rachel stared at the elf. "Well what are you going to do about it?

Seryll narrowed her eyes, and one of her hands dropped to the pommel of a dagger.

...

"So," Duncan said, clapping his hands, "I take it you found Alistair?"

Alistair, who had been staring at the three new recruits with a strange look on his face, shook his head and snapped to attention.

"Yes, they did. But they tried to kill each other," he pointed at Rachel and Seryll.

"What about Jory and Daveth?"

"They're over at the Mabari pens," Rachel told the Warden-Commander.

"Very good. Now, listen carefully," Duncan said, and they all leaned forward.

...

An hour later, Elissa and Rachel were just about ready to kill each other out of mercy, both being extremely tired of listening to Daveth and Jory prattle on about their life stories (which weren't so bad as being exiled, or having your cousin kidnapped and raped, or having your family massacred and your Teyrnir taken). Alistair was being a useless guide, and Seryll had thankfully decided to shut her mouth for once in her life – probably due to the fact she was picking all of the elfroots they came across.

"Where's your dog?" Rachel asked Elissa.

"Oh, Duncan wanted to play with him so I said yes – but only for today."

Seryll wondered back over, a bundle of elfroots shoved into her belt.

"We should go this way," Alistair pointed at a vague trail leading through the trees.

"That's a swamp, dolt. We'll be sucked under the surface," Daveth glared at Alistair.

Alistair suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"This is why I hate being a leader! Everyone expects me to know what to do, but I really don't!" He yelled.

Five minutes later, as Seryll killed the last wolf by sticking both her daggers into its neck and wrenching them around for a couple of seconds, she wished Alistair could learn to keep his voice down. _Especially _when wolves were in the area.

"Oh no!" Jory said, "I got blood on my tunic. My wife washed this especially for me before I left Redcliffe. I haven't changed it since."

"Grow up," Rachel said, not understanding why everyone looked at her and laughed afterwards. She hoped it wasn't something to do with her height. That would be horribly weak and mean.

...

"Garth Amell!" Wynne said for the fifth time that hour, "Hold the chair steady!"

Garth Amell, a young man of twenty years with shocking blue eyes and longish black hair brushed behind his ears, frowned in concentration as he levitated a large chair into the air, trying to keep it level.

"What is the point of this?" He asked Wynne, "I use awesome, destructive fire, ice and storm spells in battle. You are a healer. Why are you mentoring me?"

"Because," Wynne said patiently, "Your concentration needs to be improved – and this exercise will help."

Garth sighed. Here he was, a young mage wanting to do nothing but write ballads about the blight, trapped doing exercises he had stopped doing when he was fourteen. He waved his hands in the air, keeping the chair steady as sweat beaded on his forehead.

Abruptly, a templar stepped forwards and gestured for Garth to release the spell. The young mage did so gently, and the chair thudded gently onto the ground.

"Senior Enchanter Wynne is wanted," The templar spoke, his voice muffled by his helmet, "The young mage can practise somewhere else for the moment."

Garth nodded and walked towards some of the other mages, wondering why _Wynne _of all people was wanted by a templar.

Probably because of her magical bosom, he realised.

...

Morrigan waited impatiently at the ruins her mother had told her to wait at. The young witch shifted her weight onto her left leg and folded her arms, pursing her lips. She had been at these ruins since dawn – which had been quite some hours ago – which meant her legs were cramping from continuously standing still, and her back was aching.

"I spy with my little eyes...something beginning with 't'," Morrigan muttered. Several seconds later she continued. "Tree. Well done, Morrigan. Your beauty and intelligence is unrivalled throughout all of Thedas."

She was silent for a while.

"Curse you, mother," Morrigan eventually spat. "Curse you, Grey Wardens, for taking so damn long!" She eased out a foot cramp and shivered inside her not-very-substantial robes. By her reckoning they should have been here hours ago.

"Ah, here they come now – the fools," she smiled and hid behind a pillar. She waited for several minutes, and after hearing nothing peaked out from behind the pillar cautiously.

The chest was untouched. The Wardens were about a hundred metres away, arguing and gesturing to a corpse on the ground. Morrigan cast a spell, and suddenly her ears could make out what they were saying.

"-did it too! Jory, just slit the bloody throat open and hold the vial underneath!" the female dwarf shouted.

A large, balding man shook his head. "No! I can't! It's...wrong!"

A female elf slapped her forehead with one hand. The female human crossed her arms.

"Jory, we have all done our share. Now just take the dagger and-"

"Why can't Alistair do it?" Jory yelled, looking at a blond male human, who looked incredibly stupid and inferior when compared to the others. Morrigan felt an instant hatred for Alistair. The way he walked, how he waved his hands when exasperated... and that horrid haircut. What had he done, greased his hair with bear fat, just to make it stick up at the front? Morrigan decided that if possible, she would make his life hell.

And what was with that rusty splitmail anyway? The way he wore it made Morrigan cringe.

"I'm not undertaking the Joining!" The blond male protested, "You can't ask me too-"

"Shut up, Alison," The female dwarf snarled, "This is a recruit matter."

Alistair looked taken aback.

"Jory, cut the neck of the damn genlock and GET ON WITH IT!" the female human snapped. She appeared to be the leader of this rag-tag bunch.

Jory blinked and bent over, producing a vial from his pocket and taking the offered dagger. He cut the genlock's throat and held the vial to the cut.

That done, they walked up to the ruins and stood around the chest.

"There's nothing in there," said the female elf, after searching the old container.

"Are you sure?" the third male human asked, rubbing the bristles on his cheeks.

"What are you saying, Daveth? Are you calling me a thief? How dare you! Just because I am an elf you think you're superior, don't you!" The elf exploded.

"What? No!" he said quickly.

"Well guess what? You're a thief too – mmph!" The human female put her hand over the elf's mouth and glared at Daveth.

Morrigan chose this moment to make her appearance.

"What are you doing in these wilds of mine?" Morrigan began haughtily. "Are you scavengers, come to poke amongst – oh, stuff it. My mother has the treaties. Follow me if you want them." She looked down her nose at them, and then walked away.

...

Morrigan's mother was old, wrinkly, grey haired, yellow eyed and smelly. She stood in front of a small shack, built next to an equally small lake.

"_Hellooooo _my pretties," She cackled after five minutes of staring blankly at them.

They stared back.

"Urk! She's not scary! Turn me into a toad!" Daveth challenged.

"Quiet, Daveth! If she really is a Witch of the Wilds we don't want to anger her!" Jory exclaimed dumbly.

"Wait – when did we decide she was a Witch?" Seryll said loudly.

Rachel noticed Morrigan's mother was wearing bright purple tights. She shivered.

"Treaties," the dwarf prompted.

"Ohh, handsome lad," Morrigan's mother leered at Rachel, "Tell me, handsome lad-"

"What?" Rachel demanded, "I am not a boy! I am a girl! This is completely racist!" She folded her arms and turned away from the others, glaring out at the small lake. Seryll stared at the dwarf, bewildered.

Morrigan's mother blinked and shrugged.

"What's your name?" Elissa asked.

"Why?"

"Well, we can't just keep referring to you as 'Morrigan's mother' in our heads, can we?"

"My name is Flemeth," She said. "And here are the treaties," She handed Elissa a pile of old documents.

"Thanks," Elissa said, holding the dusty pieces of parchment with care.  
Morrigan guided them back to Ostagar, and before they knew it, they were approaching the Grey Warden bonfire. Duncan snatched the treaties off Elissa and announced it was time for the Joining.

"Please don't rub your hands together like that," Rachel muttered, "It makes you look evil."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Duncan said pleasantly, kicking Rachel in the ankle. Rachel hoped that didn't mean Duncan was evil. That would really suck.

**Reviews please? Let me know what you think?**


	2. The Massacre At Ostagar

_**So hey guys! Second chap is up! I'd like to thank everyone for their reviews, which were awesome and great to read, and spurred me to put the second chapter on faster. I don't actually write about the Joining proper in this chapter (It's kind of obvious and boring)**_

...

Elissa staggered to her feet, blinking wearily.

"Never again," she told Duncan hoarsely. "That was horrible."

"Wasn't it? I have to go now. Make sure your companions are okay," Duncan said mysteriously, and promptly disappeared. Elissa swore and looked around, seeing only Tabris and Aeducan on the ground.

"Where are Jory and Daveth?" she muttered to herself. "And why is there blood all over those stones?"

Rachel stood up, took a deep breath and promptly turned green, running to the nearest bush and vomiting loudly into it. Throughout all of that Seryll slept on, looking strangely peaceful for someone who had just drunk the foulest brew in existence.

"Disgusting," the dwarf muttered, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. "You surfacers never did know how to make good drink."

Ser Galahad ambled over, whining softly.

"I'm okay – at least, I think so," Elissa told him while Rachel went green again, sprinting back to her vomit bush.

...

Seryll woke up eventually, her cheek pressed into the hard, cold cobblestones. She could hear Rachel and Elissa talking several metres away, their voices quiet.

"-can't believe he killed Jory," Rachel was saying. "Gutted him like a nug, Duncan did. You missed all the action by going first!"

Elissa snorted, "I just wanted to get it over and done with. Did you dream of the Archdemon?"

"Yes, I did. Horrible looking beast, isn't it? All scaly and spiny and purple...rather like my grandmother, Sarah Aeducan."

The elf pushed herself off the ground and looked up to see the other two females regarding her. Elissa's dark grey eyes didn't really reveal anything – but she'd been like that since what had happened at Highever, not really showing emotions – and Rachel looked a tiny bit relieved, but mostly pissed off that Seryll was alive. Ser Galahad sat by Elissa, looking every bit the devoted, fearsome Mabari.

Duncan arrived, walking towards them hastily.

"The King has called a council. All of us have to go," he said. He turned, and they followed him to the meeting. Teyrn Loghain, a mage, the King and an old woman were standing around a marble slab, talking quietly.

"Duncan! I see you have three new Wardens. Congratulations!" Cailan began, in his usual bright and cheery matter.

Loghain was glaring at Seryll, who stared back evenly. Meanwhile, the old lady was glaring too, only at Elissa.

"Godless heathen!" she spat.

"What's this about?" Seryll asked Elissa.

"Oh, I don't believe in the Maker," the warrior muttered, shaking her head. Seryll lost track of the conversation until Loghain said;

"I need someone to light the signal at the Tower of Ishal."

"I'll send Alistair with one of my recruits," Duncan told the Teyrn. "Seryll can go with him. Elissa and Rachel will participate in the battle with the other Wardens."

...

Alistair was whining about how he deserved to be in the battle. They were with the other Wardens, getting prepared for the inevitable clash with the darkspawn.

"Heavy or medium helm?" one of the Wardens asked Elissa. She chose heavy, and made sure that it fitted her.

"-but Duncan never lets me fight! _Never_! I don't know why – I mean, I _am _a Grey Warden, and it is my _duty _to fight, so why won't he let me go?" Alistair moaned. "I know how to use a sword-"

"Debatable," Arynn, a male Dalish elf turned-Warden muttered, to the general amusement of the others.

"Get ye surcoats on," another Warden boomed, handing out the Warden surcoats that helped identify them in battle. It was as close to uniforms as they got.

"-and a shield. So why can't I fight?"

Seryll looked at him, "There might be darkspawn in the tower anyway, so shut up."

"Oh. A silver lining," Alistair said, laughing. The other Wardens shook their heads sadly.

"Hey," Elissa said, laying a hand on Seryll's arm. The elf nodded.

"Yeah?"

"Take my Mabari with you. You'll need him," Elissa said.

Seryll looked confused for a second. "But...he's yours."

"I know," Elissa said. "But you'll need him. And quite frankly, I'd rather he go with you and be a lot safer than down on the battle. I couldn't lose him, like I did my family."

...

"Alright then," Seryll said to Elissa, not really knowing what else to say. But Elissa _had _mentioned her family for the first time since Highever, and it had been to Seryll (so, Ha! to Aeducan, because who was the better person now) so the elf felt obligated to say yes. She was making progress with the warrior.

"Thanks," Elissa said, and went off to find her Mabari. Then it hit Tabris.

Maybe _she_ wasn't making progress with the warrior. Maybe Elissa was making progress with _her, _by getting the elf to look after her Mabari (which was a nice thing to do, and therefore something Tabris was totally unused to).

Oh, bugger. Now she was just confused.

...

Seryll and Alistair made their way over the great bridge with Ser Galahad bounding several metres ahead, wagging his stubby tail in excitement. Seryll herself was feeling rather blood thirsty, wanted to light the signal and then go down and join in the battle. Alistair looked very queasy, and was tapping his hands nervously on his hip.

"There are the Wardens!" Seryll said, pointing to a distant banner bearing a rearing griffon. If she looked hard enough, she could see Elissa and Rachel standing with the other Wardens near the king, who was waving his arms about as though rallying the soldiers.

"Um," Alistair began, grabbing Seryll's right vambrace and shaking it to get her attention, "the darkspawn have catapults. We should move."

Together they sprinted across the bridge with the Mabari, moving just in time as a shower of flaming boulders soared towards them. They impacted into the ancient stone bridge with a series of shattering blows, but still failing to fully destroy the monument.

"Well," Seryll muttered, "I suppose it's safe to say the battle's started."

Beneath them the army surged forwards, uttering out a fearsome war cry that ignited a deep passion in Seryll's blood.

"FOR FERELDAN!"

"Right," the elf growled, staring at Alistair. "I may be an elf, but I want to save Fereldan! So cheer up, and help me!"

...

Garth Amell danced around a Hurlock Alpha, chanting a spell under his breath. The mage zapped the Alpha with a bolt of electricity to the head and skipped gracefully to the side, just in time to avoid an arrow to the calf. Garth shook his black hair from his eyes and looked around for the archer, spying the genlock by a watch tower.

"Eat this," he chuckled, and cast a stonefist spell at the genlock. The magic impacted into its chest and ruptured the skin and armour, shattering bones and spraying crimson blood and pink bits of organs through the air. There was an audible crack as the spine snapped in several places, and slowly the genlock sagged down to the ground, dropping its bow.

"My god," a voice whispered behind him, "did you see that?"

Garth Amell turned around to see an elf and a human staring back at him, both painted with darkspawn blood. A panting Mabari stood beside them, covered in all sorts of horrifying gore.

"Yes, Alistair," said the elf, rolling her green eyes, "a mage killed a genlock. Are you terrified?"

The human folded his arms and looked sulky.

"Are you the Wardens who were supposed to light the signal?" Garth asked. "If that is so, I have some bad news. The Tower of Ishal has been taken by darkspawn."

The elf reacted in a way he had not been expecting. Hands on her hips, she turned around and glared at the human.

"See, Alistair? You get to kill some darkspawn after all. Happy?"

The male smiled, "yes. I am."

Garth coughed politely. "I will accompany you, Wardens," he said, addressing the elf.

"What?" The male demanded. "You. Are. A. Mage. You could stab me in the back at any moment!"

"With what, Alistair? With _what?_" The elf demanded.

"His – his magic! He could wait until our backs were turned and then-"

The elf cut across the human. "Ignore him; he was a templar-in-training before he became a Warden. I would be pleased to have you accompany us."

"Why are you never this nice to me?" Alistair demanded. The elf ignored him.

"I am Seryll Tabris, and this is Alistair."

"Garth Amell, and it is a pleasure to meet you, my lady," Garth bowed to her and straightened up. She smiled.

"Thanks."

"Bitch," Alistair grumbled, and luckily for him the elf girl didn't hear. Garth shot him a glare – after all, his best friend in the world was a brilliant mage named Diadrik Surana. He couldn't understand people who were racist, but then again he was a mage, so he was treated around the same as an elf anyway.

...

"CHAAARGGE!"

The army surged forwards like a giant beast, weapons bristling and armour reflecting the reddish glow of the firelight. Rachel and Elissa were among the Wardens, grey surcoats with blue griffins identifying them as members of the order. Rachel wore an open faced winged helmet, while Elissa wore the heavier, visored version. Both helmets were polished to a loving sheen, and cast shadows on their faces.

"FOR FERELDAN!" the army roared as one. A smaller war cry followed, sung only by the Wardens.

"IN WAR! VICTORY!"

"IN DEATH! SACRIFICE!"

"IN PEACE! VIGILANCE!"

And then the two armies clashed, black and white, good and evil, pure and corrupted. The Grey Wardens were at the head of the charge, a grey, blue and silver line. They were everywhere normal soldiers couldn't be, carving a wicked gash into the darkspawn army so that the human soldiers could follow, driving a wedge into the foul horde.

Rachel hacked at Hurlock with her one handed axe. Elissa was beside her, looking as though she danced with her sword, a precision mix of grace and power. The human seemed to be rejoicing in the battle, but then most Wardens did.

It was just how they were.

...

"Shitshitshitshit!" Seryll yelled, running around the top of the tower with a very angry ogre chasing her, roaring in rage. "Amell, do something!"

Garth pointed his staff at the brute of a creature, and uttered a single command. A ball of fire hit the ogre and it stumbled backwards, temporarily blinded. Alistair took this opportunity to stab his sword between its ribs and into its heart, while Seryll used her daggers and hacked at whatever body part she could find. The ogre howled and smashed a fist into Alistair's shield. He went flying through the air and hit one of the stone walls.

Garth waved his hands in the air and conjured lightning bolt. The energy hit the ogre in the head and stunned it briefly. Seryll used this chance to jump up and stab it in the neck with one of her daggers. The elf pulled the blade from the ogre and fell to the ground, diving into a roll as she hit the hard stone.

The ogre slumped forwards and hit the ground.

"Yay," said Seryll, sitting on its arm and taking a deep breath. Garth lit the signal with a quick spell while Alistair stood up, swaying.

"We should get going now," Seryll said, just as the door burst open and darkspawn flooded into the room. Seryll tried to stand, but everything went fuzzy and she slumped onto her knees. Looking down, she saw two arrows sticking out from her chest.

"Oh, bugger..." Seryll murmured, and then everything went black.

...

Elissa beheaded the emissary with ease, already turning to find her next target. There wasn't one, though. Instead there was a brief lull in the battle, giving her time to breath. The warrior shrugged her shoulders, and tightened the straps on her shield. When that was done she lifted the visor of her helm up, taking a deep breath.

"Are you injured?" Senior Warden Balen asked, holding his huge axe with ease as he stood beside her. Balen was Nevarran, and was tall and well muscled. Within the Wardens he was looked up to and respected as a fine man.

"No. You?"

Balen snorted and pounded her on the back, "Nothing I can't handle. Shit Cousland, you're good with a blade. Won any duels?"

"Some. Against Knights – and one against Teyrn Loghain-"

"KACHAAA!" a shriek wailed, flying through the air towards them. Elissa stepped aside and Balen swung his huge axe, splitting the creature in half.

"Very nice," Balen approved as the two halves of the shriek hit the ground with a wet thud. "Winning a duel against Loghain, I mean. Where are his men, I wonder?"

Elissa was about to answer him when a hoarse cry cut through the battlefield.

"The King! The King!" a soldier nearby screamed, pointing at an ogre lumbering towards Cailan. The two Wardens charged towards the ogre – but it was too late. The ogre crushed Cailan and tossed the limp body aside like it was a ragdoll, roaring its challenge.

Duncan appeared out of nowhere and raced towards the ogre, leaping impossibly high and stabbing it in the heart with both of his daggers. He yanked them out and fell to the ground, winded. The ogre fell the other way, blood blooming across its chest.

"Ser, Loghain's not responding to the signal," Balen said. With a thrill of horror, Elissa looked up and saw the Tower of Ishal blazing brightly in the night.

"I know," Duncan said. "The bastard left us! Where's the dwarf?"

He was given two identical confused glances.

"The one with the red hair. Raquel, or something."

"Rachel?" Balen said. "I don't rightly know. Cousland, go and look for her."

Elissa nodded, "Aye, then."

...

"Put me down!" Rachel shouted; drumming her feet on the Hurlock's back. It ignored her and strode through the battlefield, carrying her over one shoulder and holding her axe and shield with its spare arm.

Rachel folded her arms and huffed. Here she was, ex-princess of Orzammer, once a commander of the Deep Roads, being kidnapped by a hideous Hurlock that reeked like a deepstalker's urine. It sort of sucked.

She was _not _going to scream for help. That would _never _happen.

"Rachel?" the Hurlock stopped abruptly, staring at the figure before it that had spoken.

"Oh, hullo Cousland," Rachel said unhappily. "What are you doing here?"

Elissa, covered in blood and still wearing her ripped Warden surcoat, frowned at the dwarf.

"Saving you. Why is that Hurlock carrying you about?"

The Hurlock grunted and drew his sword. Elissa lunged forward and stabbed him through the heart. Rachel slid to the ground, and retrieved her weapons.

"We will never speak of this again," Rachel muttered after a while. Elissa smiled slowly at her.

"Oh, don't you worry about that. Now come on, Duncan wants to see us."

...

Duncan, as it turned out, was dying a slow and painful death in the forest. Elissa stared down at him, bewildered.

"What happened?" she asked. "And how did you get to the forest? You were on the battlefield with Balen before."

"Yes," Duncan coughed. "Darkspawn...rushed us. I escaped here. You need to know something."

Elissa leant closer.

"I know I won't survive this...and none of the other Wardens will. Elissa, you must be the Warden-Commander..."

"What? I'm only a Junior Warden!"

"You...better than Alistair..." Duncan sighed, blinking wearily. Elissa shot Rachel a glance, but the dwarf shrugged.

"Better you than me as well. I don't know the first thing about Fereldan or the Wardens!"

"Rachel...and Tabris are now Senior Wardens," Duncan grabbed Elissa's hand. "My belt. Empty out the satchel."

Elissa did so. There was a vial of black liquid, a small journal, a sheaf of parchment, the treaties and a map of Fereldan. There was also a small amulet bearing the crest of Warden-Commander.

"The vial...is the mixture you took in the-" Duncan coughed violently, and spat out a gob of blood, "-Joining. There is enough there for four, maybe five more recruits. Don't...stay and fight...it's all lost...go, escape..."

He grinned lopsidedly and life faded from his eyes. Elissa and Rachel stared down at the dead Warden-Commander, grinning in death. It was rather macabre.

Elissa and Rachel took the satchel and contents, and left after closing Duncan's eyes. They melted away into the forest, leaving the battlefield.

...

"Did you hear that?" Elissa asked several hours later, unsheathing her sword. Rachel nodded and drew her axe, grimly surveying their surroundings. A docile pack pony followed them, a gift from a group of surviving Knights they had met in the forest.

A bush rustled nearby. Cat quiet, Elissa moved swiftly towards the offending bush, sword at the ready.

"Please do not stab me. 'Twould not be nice," a familiar, snide voice said, and Morrigan appeared, standing in the middle of the bush, somehow still looking haughty with twigs in her hair.

"What are you doing here?" Elissa asked.

Morrigan drew herself up proudly, "I was searching for my supper. What are _you _doing here, Grey Wardens? And where is your mutt?" she directed at Elissa, pulling the sticks out of her hair.

"Our army was slaughtered, and my _Mabari _is with Seryll and Alistair, who lit the signal atop the Tower of Ishal."

"Hmm. Why is it your arm is bleeding?" Morrigan asked Rachel, pushing her way out of the bush

"I wonder why," Rachel tapped her chin. "Perhaps it is due to the fact I was in a battle!"

Morrigan blinked slowly.

"There is no need to get snappy at me. I was about to offer you help, you know."

"Oh, alright," Elissa said hastily before Rachel could say anything. "Take us back to your mother, then."

Rachel sighed unhappily.

...

Seryll woke up to find Morrigan leaning over her. The elf yelped in surprise.

"Yahh!" she scrambled backwards, eyes wide.

"You are awake, then," Morrigan muttered. Seryll took a deep breath, and calmed herself.

"What happened? I was in the tower, wasn't I?"

"You were very nearly killed by darkspawn entering the tower," Morrigan told her. "My mother rescued you, the dog, the mage and _Alistair_. The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field, the King and the army were massacred and the darkspawn won your battle. Does that make you sad?"

Seryll pulled a face.

"Sort of. Wait – what about Elissa and Alistair? Are they okay? And the mage, Garth?"

"Alistair still lives, unfortunately. It appears I got my hopes up for nothing. Oh, and that dwarf is alive, too."

...

"No," Elissa told Flemeth. "There were about fifty survivors, we met in the forest after the battle. We discussed what had happened for a while, and then we split up. A regiment of archers, a group of Knights from Waking Sea and Mirror Lake, ten soldiers and Rachel and I," the warrior shook her head. "There's no hope in finding them now. The Knights from Mirror Lake said they were heading straight back to Arl Calum, and then they gave us that pack pony." Elissa pointed to a shaggy pony grazing contently several metres away.

"An Arl?" Flemeth asked. "Do you think that he would support the Wardens or Loghain?"

"The Wardens, without a doubt. He's my uncle, you see, and once he hears Howe attacked Highever – I'm starting to think that was on Loghain's orders, you know, he'll pledge support to me –err, the Grey Wardens. Whatever."

"Then there are the treaties," Flemeth said. "Did you look at them?"

"Yes, I did. We can demand help from the Circle Mages, the Dalish Elves and Orzammer."

"I can help you in Orzammer," Rachel said. "I'm thinking my status as a Grey Warden overrides being an exile. I know the politics like the back of my hand, and I can tell you which nobles are worth talking to."

"And I'll help you at the Circle," Garth added, sitting cross-legged on a tree stump, patting Ser Galahad. "I'll just stand there and look important."

Flemeth nodded. She looked at Alistair, staring unhappily out at the small lake, and turned back to the others.

"What of the Wardens? Your commander is dead, is he not?"

Rachel shook her head, "No, we have a commander. Duncan told Elissa she was Warden-Commander when we found him on the battle field. He gave Seryll and I titles of Senior Wardens, too."

"_I'm _a Senior Warden?" an incredulous voice asked, and Seryll walked out of the shack. "Wow. I didn't expect that!" she walked over to Elissa, fastening her vambraces onto her forearms. Elissa sighed.

"Do you even know how to do that armour up?" the warrior muttered, and grabbed Seryll's left pauldron.

"Not really," the elf said as Elissa tightened the buckle with ease and moved onto fixing the breastplate. "I've only really worn this stuff twice. Owww!" she added as Elissa clapped her on the shoulder and moved off.

"You're alive," Rachel sniffed, staring at the elf. "I did not expect this. Well, you should know that Elissa is now our leader, and the mage who helped you is joining us on our depraved quest to find help across Fereldan. You see, we are going to make an army to stop the blight."

"Hey," Garth waved at Seryll, who waved back.

"One more thing," Flemeth said. "Morrigan will be going with you."

"Mother! What?" Morrigan exclaimed suddenly, shock evident on her face.

"I assure you," Rachel began pompously. "We do not need your daughter. We have a mage – a trustable, Circle Mage who I can have intelligent conversation with."

Garth looked very smug.

"We can't have two mages!" Alistair turned around, glaring accusingly at Flemeth. "They might plot sneaky mage things together!"

"_Please," _Morrigan sneered, looking at Garth. The Circle Mage rolled his eyes and returned to patting Ser Galahad.

"Are you sure?" said Elissa.

"I mean, she's kind of a bitch," Seryll added.

"Oh, I'm sure. She's always wanted to get out of the wilds, anyway."

"Not like _this_," Morrigan snarled. "Mother, I mean – _really._"

"Go on, girl. It will be fun," Flemeth said cheerily, no doubt eager to be rid of her snarky, bitchy, back chatting daughter.

"No doubt," Morrigan muttered darkly. "Running from the darkspawn, having to feed ourselves with what we can find in the woods, dealing with dirty peasants, chasing down forest elves, arguing with dwarves and having to go to the Circle of Magi. It shall be an adventure!" she scoffed and folded her arms, glaring at everyone.

"That's what I thought," Garth told her.

"You do realise I was being sarcastic, you idiotic _Circle Mage_?"

"Oh, I realised," Garth replied. "But I do think this shall be an adventure! The very stuff of legends! I'll write it all down, and we'll all be wonderfully famous, don't you think?"

Ser Galahad woofed in agreement.

...

_Thanks to my reviewers, diablo321, Spirit Wolf and mutive. You guys are supportive and are the best! Don't be afraid to review! _


	3. The Orlesian Horror and The Qunari

_**AN: Sweet, lots of reviews! Sorry I got the Warden Chant out of order in the second chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the third chapter. It should be funny! Seryll has a line that is shamelessly stolen from Pirates of The Caribbean: At Worlds End somewhere in this chapter. Also, I claim ownership of a card game Alistair and Garth play in this chapter. I invented it. Yay.**_

_**I didn't really write very much of the party in Lothering, I'm afraid. Everyone knows what happens in Lothering, yeah? Oh, but the party didn't go to the pub, so they don't know that they're wanted by Teyrn Loghain - and yes, that is a plot point.**_

_**Umm, this chapter should have been up earlier, but my laptop got a virus. **_

_**A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all you readers! **_

_**Thanks! Now read!**_

_**...**_

Lothering was like nothing Seryll had expected. It was a small village flooded with refugees fleeing the blight. The children were wailing, the women were sobbing and the men were fighting. All were mud stained and weary. She and Alistair got into a tangle with a horde of giant spiders and later a pack of wolves. Rachel and Garth recruited a Qunari and helped some of the villagers. Elissa, Ser Galahad and Morrigan made money by ending arguments between merchants and killing bandits.

Seryll had expected Lothering to be peaceful and quaint. It was definitely not that.

They met outside of the village two hours later, and Rachel introduced Sten to the others. Sten grunted. Alistair said "wow, he's really tall," and Morrigan replied with, "your intelligence astounds even I, Alistair. I am grateful that the dwarf and the spineless Circle Mage rescued this proud creature, but I am upset that you did not take his place in the cage."

There was an awkward silence. No one spoke for five minutes, until...

"Don't ask," Seryll said to Garth when he pointed out that there were green spider-guts all through her hair.

"I assure you, elf," Rachel began, "I had no intention of-"

"Shut-up, you little stumpy shit," Seryll retorted.

"Rachel, ease up. Seryll, don't even _think _about it," Elissa reprimanded as Seryll's hand went to draw one of her daggers. Both sighed and unwillingly nodded.

"Excuse me," an accented voice asked from behind Elissa, "I wonder if-"

The warrior drew her sword and in one smooth motion whipped around, holding the steel blade to the stranger's throat. The stranger flinched and her eyes bulged.

Seryll hi-fived Garth and Alistair behind Elissa's back.

"The leader is fast to draw her blade," Sten muttered. "This is...unexpected."

"How wonderful," Morrigan sneered. "A Chantry girl has come to see us off."

"I hope this isn't about us threatening the Revered Mother," Rachel muttered to Garth.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Elissa asked coldly. "Are you a supporter of Teyrn Loghain come to curse at us? A religious bigot come to try and convert _some_ of us to your religion?"

"No-oo," the woman said, looking around uncomfortably. "I am none of those things. I actually wondered if I could ask to accompany you."

"So you're a depraved Orlesian?" Garth asked. "Because, I hate to break it to you...but we're all capable warriors, rogues and mages. You are a _Chantry Sister."_

"I had a vision that the Maker gave to me! And he told me to join you! But I thought you would go to the tavern, you see, so I waited there..."

"How very Fereldan," Morrigan said loudly. "Yes, we would sit in a tavern and drink our troubles away while a Blight ravages the land. You _foolish girl_!"

"I know what you are," the stranger said, as if trying to gain the upper hand.

"Oh, here come the racist jokes," Seryll said, glaring at the stranger over Elissa's pauldron. "Go on, I _dare _you."

"Really?" Elissa said to the Chantry Sister. "Well I know what you are. You are a lying idiot. I may not know much about the Maker, but I do know he doesn't give people visions – am I right, Alistair?"

"Yes, of course," Alistair said. "Personally, I think she got into the ceremonial whisky a bit too much last night," he mimicked drinking from a large glass bottle and the others laughed.

"I can fight," the stranger persisted.

"I doubt it," Morrigan said aloofly, and looked down her nose at the Chantry Sister.

Seryll did not like the stranger at all. No one else did.

But she ended up tagging along anyway.

...

"I will _not _share a tent with that elf," Rachel told Elissa at camp several hours later.

"Build your own shelter, then. Garth and Alistair have to share, because we only have four tents and Sten needs one for himself. Morrigan has built her own shelter, of course."

Rachel looked across the clearing and gaped. Morrigan had built herself a wooden shelter complete with a front porch. Sensing Rachel's gaze, the witch looked up and gave the dwarf a rude hand sign before retreating to her little palace.

"Fine. You know what? You can share with Leliana, and I'll share with Seryll. There."

And with that, the warrior whistled for her Mabari, picked up a longbow and quiver of arrows she had bought from a trader, and walked over to Sten. Rachel noticed she wasn't wearing her usual heavy plate or carrying her sword and shield, so the dwarf surmised that they must be going hunting. Elissa said something to the Qunari, who nodded and rose from his seat on the ground with a strange gracefulness for someone his size.

"Ha ha," Seryll said to Rachel, smirking.

"Ha ha what?"

"You get to share with Leliana. Ha ha."

"What's so bad about that?" Rachel asked, shooting a glance at the bard sitting across the camp.

"Oh, nothing," the elf said quickly, and she clammed up after that. Rachel grunted and Seryll walked off to talk to Garth.

...

"...and in Orlais all of the shops have wonderful silk gowns in every shades – and the shoes! Oh, shoes! Made of silk and not thick leather or metal like the shoes you find in Fereldan. And some have pretty little bows, or gemstones glued onto them, or even one year the fashion was gold buttons sewn onto your shoes! Imagine wearing shoes with little gold buttons on them - how cute! And I remember the spring of four years ago was the height of bells, you know, bells on your _shoes._"

Rachel groaned and considered killing the Orlesian Horror with her axe.

"...the bags are made of only the finest, most supple leather – proper leather, not the thick stuff you use for armour in Fereldan – and have ever so many useful storage compartments, and ladies use them to store all of their make-up and brushes and, and earrings and rings and all sorts of jewellery, really..."

The dwarf wondered whether Elissa would be angry if Leliana was killed in the most horrific manner possible.

"...and then hairstyles! Two years ago painting your hair silver or gold was all the rage – hey, where are you going? I was just getting up to overcoats of five years ago!"

...

"I want to sleep with you!"

Elissa was awoken from her dream of hunting in Highever with Ser Danya, Ser Gilmore and her Mabari to this announcement. She blinked groggily, and looked over at Seryll. "Huh, did you say that?" she managed to say, before letting out a huge yawn.

"Nope," the elf muttered, sitting up across the tent. "I thought you did, actually." She rubbed her eyes and ran a hand through her blond hair. Ser Galahad, sprawled across Elissa's stomach, raised his head and woofed softly.

"It was me," said the same voice again, and Elissa looked up at the previously unnoticed figure standing at the tent entrance and groaned.

"Damn it Aeducan, it's after midnight. Go back to sleep – in your own tent – and stop propositioning us!"

"I wash my hands of this weirdness," Seryll announced loudly and flopped back onto her pillow.

"I am _not _propositioning you!" the dwarf snapped. She took a breath and added. "Leliana has been talking for three hours straight about clothes. _Clothes._"

"Well," Elissa said tiredly, "you were the one who didn't want to share a tent with Seryll."

Rachel huffed and stormed out. There was silence in the tent, and suddenly Seryll said;

"I wouldn't sleep with her anyway, she's not my really type," the elf fell asleep abruptly, and Elissa blinked.

"Right..."

Ser Galahad nosed her hand and she patted him, falling back to sleep in minutes. This time, her dream was of sparring against Fergus...

...

"Dammit! How did you know I had the Silver Knight?" Garth exploded. Alistair tapped the side of his nose as Garth handed him a playing card.

"Just did, I guess."

"No, it was that bloody templar training of yours. You're spying on my mind right now, aren't you?" Garth said. "Well then – what am I thinking of right now?"

"Cheese?"

"Nope. Okay, I'll bet my Nobleman's Mabari, which is equipped with the Kaddis of The Hunter, that you have one Knight of the Bannorn."

"Oh ho-ho. What armour is he wearing?"

"Um, Splintmail."

Alistair chuckled and handed Garth two cards. "Yeah, yeah. Here you go, one Knight of the Bannorn and his armour. Sorry for being so weird before, about you being a mage."

"It's okay. I couldn't believe I had to travel with an ex templar in training!"

The two men laughed and continued to play their card game.

"So...do you like Morrigan?" Alistair asked.

"As if! I did try to be nice, but she's all like, 'please, you spineless Circle Mage worm'. Like Seryll said in the Wilds, she's sort of a bitch."

"I know, right? Gosh, sometimes I just want to push her over or something..."

...

Morning began with a darkspawn attack. Elissa was putting on her heavy plate over her padded tunic when suddenly she could hear a whispering sound at the back of her mind, heralding the arrival of the foul creatures. Her blood sang to her, telling the warrior how close the darkspawn were.

Elissa grabbed her shield and sword and charged out of the tent, shouting loudly, "DARKSPAWN!"

Ser Galahad was at her side, growling and looking around the camp.

Seryll tripped out after her, wearing only her boots and vambraces over her night clothes. She was holding her daggers and looking around, yawning.

"Darkspawn? How do you know?" Garth asked as he and Alistair ran out of their tent. Alistair's hair was its usual messy self while Garth's hair stuck up everywhere. The mage was wearing his robes inside out, while Alistair had only managed to put his splintmail shirt on.

"Grey Wardens can sense them," Alistair told the mage. "Where are the others?"

Sten appeared, holding his steel greatsword in one massive hand while he yawned into the other.

"Oi, get up!" Elissa snapped at the last tent, which was Rachel's and Leliana's.

And then the darkspawn appeared from out of the trees. There must have been twenty of them, a mixed band of hurlocks and genlocks. Rachel, Morrigan and Leliana joined the others, and Leliana gasped as she saw the darkspawn.

"What horrible creatures! I think I might vomit-"

"Try not to touch their blood," Elissa said to the non Wardens. "Otherwise you'll become tainted. Let's get them!"

And then the battle began, Leliana looking very green, which contrasted horribly with her red hair.

...

Alistair decapitated a genlock with one swift, brutal movement of his sword and fell back to Elissa, fighting at her side.

"I think there's an emissary – a darkspawn spellcaster."

Elissa lunged forwards and stabbed a hurlock where its neck joined its shoulder, and a fountain of blood erupted from the wound.

"Where?"

"The trees to our left," Alistair said, pummelling a genlock with his shield.

Elissa risked a glance over her shoulder. "Oh, I see him," she said, and raised her shield just as three arrows sped towards her. They impacted into the steel with a loud thud and the darkspawn archers howled in rage.

"Garth, take out the archers!" she commanded, yelling at the mage. Garth nodded and raised his staff, preparing a spell.

"Alistair, disrupt the emissary's magic. Then we'll rush him – what in hells?"

A huge spider scuttled past Elissa and Alistair and towards the emissary, who shrieked like a five year old girl and tried to run away. The spider shot a thick strand of web at the darkspawn mage and reeled it back, like it was a fish.

"I think that's Morrigan," Alistair said faintly as the spider savaged the emissary's face with glee, razor sharp mandibles gleaming in the morning sun.

"It certainly seems like it," Elissa replied. The giant spider now appeared to be dancing on the emissary's corpse, waving four of its eight legs in the air and hopping around on the other four.

"Maker, that's just awful..." Alistair whispered as Spider-Morrigan spat a gob of poison on the darkspawn corpse and watched as it sizzled into the rotting flesh, clicking her mandibles together happily.

"No wonder her mother wanted her gone," Garth muttered. Spider-Morrigan hissed at him and scuttled away.

...

Seryll stabbed the last genlock in the neck and pushed it away from her to avoid the inevitable spray of blood. The elf looked around and screamed.

"Ahh! Stay away from me, spider! I killed enough of your kind yesterday!" she pointed one of her daggers at the giant spider, which was covered in darkspawn gore.

"Do not be silly," said the spider (and yes, Seryll was extremely confused at this arachnid talking to her) and it transformed into a haughty looking Morrigan. "I am not a spider, I am a shapeshifter."

"Apostate," Alistair muttered as he walked past them, heading back to camp.

"I don't care; you had eight legs and damn well looked like a spider. I hate giant spiders."

"'Tis no fault of mine that you should detest such useful creatures," Morrigan said coldly.

"Yeah? Well...shut-up," Seryll retorted and stormed away.

Alistair, Sten and Elissa walked past Morrigan, each dragging two darkspawn towards the pile of corpses they had made.

"Bitch," Alistair muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Morrigan snarled at him and retrieved her staff.

"In the Qunari culture we cut out the tongues of our mages if they do wrong," Sten grumbled.

Alistair filed this information away for later use. Elissa caught his eye and shook her head, raising a dark brown eyebrow. "No."

"But-"

"_No."_

...

Garth was deeply uncomfortable with the glances he was getting from what Rachel had nicknamed 'the Orlesian Horror' – Leliana. She kept looking at him and batting her eyelids, and then would giggle childishly. It was rather off putting.

Garth set fire to the darkspawn corpses and walked back to camp to help the others pack up the tents. They loaded the pack pony up, and were about to set off when a greeting was yelled at them.

"It's the merchants from yesterday," Elissa said, moving forwards to greet the pair of dwarves. Rachel accompanied their leader, and beckoned the others over.

"This is Bodahn Feddic and his son Sandal," Elissa said. "They'll be travelling with us for a while, for protection. They said we can put our stuff in their wagon."

"It's no trouble," Bodahn told them. "You aren't carrying very much anyway."

They unloaded the pack pony and tied its lead rope to the side of the wagon, unsaddling it and dumping its tack with the rest of their stuff. Elissa thanked the merchants and Rachel jumped into the wagon, talking to Bodahn and Sandal happily.

"Maybe she won't be such a bitch now," Seryll muttered to Garth as they strode down the road.

"Maybe," Garth muttered as Leliana walked past him and gave him a _look, _winking and smirking at him. Garth stiffened and Seryll noticed.

"Piss off, you Orlesian sack of manure," Seryll snarled. Elissa turned around up ahead, gave Leliana a brief glance and beckoned her over.

...

"Yes?" said Leliana.

"Okay, you know how to scout?" Elissa asked.

"Yes..."

"Good. Here's a bow, now you walk about a hundred metres in front of us and look out for bandits and darkspawn. Off you go," she said, and Leliana trotted off up ahead.

"Thanks," Garth said, sighing in relief.

"Are you planning to sacrifice her to the darkspawn?" Morrigan asked. "I see no other reason why you should send her ahead by herself."

"I see plenty of reasons," Seryll muttered.

"Oh-ho! Is this because our Circle Mage cannot protect himself from the advances of an-"

Elissa stopped in front of Morrigan, her grey eyes hard.

"Listen here, you bloody idiot. We're all sick of your attitude, so shut-up before I cut your tongue out," Elissa hissed. "Keep being a bitch if you _really _want to cross me. You think because I'm a noble that I'm some soft lily flower? Well you're wrong, aren't you? I was raised a warrior, I am a Knight of Highever. I've killed bandits, outlaws, soldiers and even some apostates. I've seen things so horrible that they would even scare even _you_. So shut-up, and make sure you remember what I just said."

Seryll, Garth and Alistair where the only others to hear this exchange, as Sten was walking behind them with Ser Galahad and Rachel was with the Feddics in their wagon back down the road.

Morrigan opened her mouth to say something, but through better of it. She shot Elissa a glare and shape-changed into a crow, flying into the air and shooting off ahead.

"That put her in her place," Elissa said grimly. She received three panicked stares, and began smiled. "I'm not going to yell at you," she said.

"Good," Garth sighed. "I wouldn't be able to handle it!"

...

"I have a plan," Elissa said to Alistair, Seryll and Garth, an hour later. "We'll divide into two groups. One group will go to the tower and deal with the mage treaty. That group will consist of Rachel leading, with Leliana and Garth following. The rest of us will go ahead to Redcliffe and see how sick the Arl is, okay?"

Alistair and Seryll both agreed that this was a marvellous plan, as it would give them a week of no Rachel or Leliana. Garth was rather put out, but at the same time was happy at being able to go back to the tower and see his lifelong friend, Diadrik Surana. Rachel was also told of this plan, and agreed to it. The next day they arrived at Lake Calenhad, and bid farewell to the trio headed to the tower.

"I hope you drown in that lake, shorty," Seryll said, this comment directed at a certain red-headed dwarf.

"And I hope Arl Eamon gives you his mysterious disease, skinny," Rachel replied threateningly.

"He won't. Well you're so fat the boat will break up halfway across, and you'll sink like a stone."

"Maybe Eamon will demand that you sleep in the kennels, with the dogs – and no, not Mabari, but horrible, worthless mutts."

"Oh yeah? Well I hope you drown – damn, I already said that."

"Remember, in a week. You should be able to book passage on a boat to Redcliffe," Elissa reminded the trio.

"Yeah, yeah," Garth and Rachel chorused. Leliana appeared to be checking out Garth from behind.

"Have fun," Garth said to Alistair.

"I probably won't," the templar said gloomily. "It will be very awkward. Isolde hates me."

"Nonsense," Seryll said heartily as they bid the trio goodbye and set off to Redcliffe, Bodahn's wagon following in their footsteps.

"You'll see," Alistair promised.

...

**_A shorter chapter, I know, but I'm setting the scene for the next one – Redcliffe! Yaya! And then after that the Circle Tower – Rachel vs. Wynne round two! Thanks to my reviewers: mutive, Halogirl, diablo321, regice93, Spirit Wolf, keiko and MouseStalker! You are all very wonderful people!_**

**_AN: I would like readers to give me their opinions as to any pairings they would like to suggest. Don't forget that Mahariel, Brosca and Surana have yet to make an appearance!_**


	4. The Fight for Redcliffe

_**Hey readers! Mutive gave me some great advice – to flesh out the characters a bit more – so I've done that in this chapter, mainly with Seryll. Elissa learns the Wardens have been declared traitors and some other things happen.**_

_**Don't forget to review, and I hope you all have a great 2011.**_

...

Something was wrong in Redcliffe. At least, that was what Alistair noticed as they walked into the village. Barricades made of sharpened logs were everywhere. Windows and doors were boarded up. People were shooting them suspicious and frightened glances. There were liberal amounts of a dark red fluid on the ground...

"Oh, gross," Seryll said faintly as she stepped in a puddle of the mysterious fluid. "That's...blood," she shook her boot in disgust, hopping on her other foot.

His worst fears were confirmed. Isolde was waging war on the village with her wickedly sharp Orlesian tongue, and the people were bleeding because of it. He was going to put a stop to this. Isolde would die...

...well, maybe not die, but get her comeuppance in the end. She was behind all of this. She definitely was.

**...**

Alistair was wrong, though. This became apparent when Bann Teagan told them what was really happening.

"So every night the undead attack the village," Elissa said to Bann Teagan. "Eamon is trapped in the castle, along with some guards, Isolde and Conner. _And_ you think tonight you'll get absolutely slaughtered by the walking corpses, and you want us to help you fight them."

He nodded sheepishly.

"I knew something like this would eventually happen," Alistair muttered under his breath. Morrigan glared at him and moved away.

"That's gross," Seryll interjected. "All of the rotting bodies running down to the village, moaning and groaning while bits of their flesh fall off. I wonder, do they eat brai – oww!"

Elissa smiled at Bann Teagan as Seryll rubbed her ankle. "Alright then, we'll help. What do you need done?"

Teagan considered this for a brief moment. "You can speak to Murdock, Ser Perth, and maybe the Revered Mother?"

"What on earth is _she _going to do? Honestly, you've been praying to the Maker and has he helped you out of this mess?" Elissa snapped. "I'll do it for the soldiers, even though I don't believe in your bloody religious mumbo-jumbo."

The northerners of Fereldan were famous for their disregard for the Chantry and the Andrastean religion.

Teagan gaped.

"We shall be going now, unless you have anything further to say?" Elissa asked.

He shook his head. Elissa turned around and led them back outside of the Chantry.

"Why does everyone bitch at you for not following the Chantry?" Seryll wanted to know.

Elissa smiled wryly, brushing a tendril of dark brown hair back from her face. She tapped her fingers on her greaves, creating a soft metal pinging sound.

"It's not just me. A lot of people from the north of Fereldan don't believe in the Maker."

"Human religions are baffling and completely stupid," Morrigan announced, picking dirt out from under her fingernails.

Sten grunted. "Do you consider yourself not human, then?" he asked.

"Yes – no... be quiet," she glided away, drawing glances from the villagers as they goggled at her barely-covered body.

"She really needs to wear some clothes," Seryll muttered. "Those robes don't even cover much up."

"I think that's why she wears them," Elissa replied.

"You mean – oh, gross!" the elf exclaimed, eyes wide.

Alistair chuckled, "such innocence, huh?"

"You can hardly talk," Seryll shot back. Alistair turned bright red and stumbled away from the others, seeking escape from his embarrassment.

"Has he not..." said Sten haltingly.

"No, he has not," Elissa told the Qunari. He sighed and shook his head.

Morrigan glided back over. "Elissa, where is your mutt?"

"With the Feddics. Why?"

Morrigan dumped her pack on the ground and rummaged through it. She pulled out a rotting rabbit and dumped it in front of Elissa. "Your dog left this... thing in my pack."

"Maybe it was Rachel," Seryll suggested.

"Do not be stupid, elf. All you are good for is killing darkspawn with those daggers of yours," Morrigan sneered. "Now, human Warden, I suggest you tell your stupid mutt to stay away from my belongings in future!"

"Ser Galahad is a proud warrior, courageous and deadly," Sten intoned. "He is much smarter than you, witch."

Seryll grinned. "Maybe he's trying to tell you that the smell of a rotting rabbit is easier on the nose than what your smalls normally smell like."

Alistair had managed to contain his blush and was wandering back over, a pink tinge still visible on his cheeks.

"Er, Morrigan, why are you waving your smalls around for the town to see?" he asked.

Morrigan stuffed the offending undergarments in her pack, glared at Alistair and strode away.

...

"Please let me in," Seryll yelled through the thick wooden door. Her daggers wouldn't do much to get her in so she _had _to be nice and civil.

She could hear footsteps on the other side of the door, and a heavy sigh.

"No," came the reply. "Now piss off!"

"Let me rephrase my last request. Let me in or I'll tell the Qunari standing next to me to smash your door open!" Seryll said threateningly.

"Indeed," rumbled Sten, flexing his huge fists.

"Oh, alright – but wipe your feet."

...

"-so you see, Dwyn, we need you to fight for Redcliffe village," Seryll told the obnoxious dwarf several minutes later.

He looked at the two men flanking him. "Err, right. Is there an alternative?"

"Yes!" Seryll replied with an evil glint in her eye. "These are the exact words of my Commander: 'Either they fight, or go for a swim in Lake Calenhad, wrapped in chains'. So what do you think?"

"Oh, we'll fight," the dwarf said quickly. "No doubt about it. Tell your Commander we send our greetings and she'll see us at the battle tonight...you know, fighting with her."

"Excellent," Seryll said. "I'm sure she'll be pleased."

...

"I'll find your daughter for you," Alistair promised the blacksmith, who sniffed and burped, taking another swig from the bottle he was holding.

"How do I know you're not lying, boy? You might k-kidnap her!"

"Oh, no," said Alistair, shifting his weight onto his right foot. "You see, I was raised in the chantry from the age of ten, so I hold only the most pure and innocent thoughts in my brain and only the holiest ideals in my heart."

The smith regarded him through bloodshot eyes.

"Oh, alright then," he said eventually. "I'd best get the forge started up again." He put on his apron and grabbed the bellows.

"'Kaythanksbye!" Alistair waved and shot out the door, taking a deep breath when outside. Apparently the smith had not washed since his daughter had gone missing.

Peeyeww!

...

"...so it would be like lying to bless the soldiers and Knights when it does nothing to protect them, you see," the revered mother droned.

Elissa turned to Morrigan. "Say, do you know any of those dark Chasind rituals that give soldiers more courage and strength in battle?"

Morrigan tapped her chin with a pale finger.

"Why yes, I believe I do. The one I am thinking of involves the ritual bloodletting of a newborn lamb. The blood is then mixed with a ground powder of bat bones and boiled over a fire fuelled by magic. When the blood has cooled, the soldiers and Knights shall drink it and paint their faces with-"

"Nonsense, child," the revered mother laughed. "No need for you to go to all of that... trouble. I'll bless them and you give this amulet to Ser Perth, alright? You don't have to waste time over that Chasind ritual."

Elissa took the amulet and walked out of the Chantry, loftily ignoring Teagan as she walked past him.

"That was fun, Grey Warden."

"I have a name, you know."

...

"-and Dwyn says he'll help you-"

"Good," Murdock said.

"-please shut-up, because I'm not finished yet!" Murdock blinked as Seryll continued. "And we found all of these barrels of oil which you can set on fire as a trap and Alistair said the smith is working again and-" Seryll was cut off by a hand on her shoulder.

"Take a breath before you pass out," Elissa suggested. She turned to Murdock. "Ser Perth and the Knights said they are ready. How long do we wait? I have to go and get my Mabari."

"A couple of hours, maybe. We'll know when they arrive."

...

They knew indeed.

"Wow, look at that!" Seryll exclaimed, staring at the bridge to castle Redcliffe. A horde of shambling, humanoid like creatures was currently making their way across the bridge while a poisonous looking green fog swirled around them.

"Your obsession with the undead is sickening," Morrigan sneered.

"I find you sickening in general," Seryll shot back. She ignored Morrigan and unsheathed her daggers.

The others drew their weapons too. Elissa banged down the visor of her winged helmet and shrugged her shoulders in a circular motion. Alistair checked the straps on his shield. Sten murmured something under his breath – probably a Qunari battle prayer. Morrigan was sneering, and Seryll was stretching her neck.

And then the first of the undead were racing towards them, rotting faces free of emotion yet so horrifying. Seryll felt a strange emotion as she slashed one with her daggers – was this really her? An alienage elf who had became a Grey Warden, and then a Senior Grey Warden by the wish of a dying man. Was she really going to save Fereldan?

Seryll hoped the Blight would wait for Redcliffe to be saved. After all, it would be completely rude of the Archdemon to go ahead and destroy the land while Elissa did her damned best to save Redcliffe from a horde of undead. Eamon had better be grateful for all of this damn time they were wasting on this apparently worthless Arldom.

"Why are there even undead in Redcliffe anyway?" Seryll yelled at Elissa. The warrior beheaded a shambling corpse and glared at Seryll through her eye slit in the helmet. Her normally grey irises shone an uncanny silver – the moonlight reflecting off her eyes.

"Don't you ever listen?" she demanded, hacking at another undead with a series of blinding sword strokes.

Seryll considered this for a second. "Not always."

"Teagan thinks some mage conjured them or something-"

"Arghhhh!" someone screamed abruptly. Morrigan had yet again shifted into her spider form, and was bounding amongst the undead like a child in a candy shop, spitting gobs of poison everywhere.

"-but Teagan is a damn fool. So I have no idea," Elissa finished, triumphantly smashing the skull of another undead with the flat of her blade. Shards of bone flew through the air, accompanied by lumps of green and grey rotting flesh.

Their small battle was finished. The soldiers, Dwyn, his men and the party gathered near the Chantry, wearily congratulating each other.

...

"A moment, milady!" a soldier yelled in Elissa's ear as she gulped down water from a pitcher. Briefly, she considered hitting him. She dismissed this thought and turned around.

The soldier continued. "Ser Perth requests your help!"

Morrigan glided over.

"More killing? Oh, how fun." she said, sounding bored.

"I've been shot..." Seryll murmured from somewhere behind Elissa. She turned around to see Alistair yanking the arrow out, causing Seryll to jump and yelp in pain.

"Poultice on that wound. You, soldier, tell Ser Perth to hold his position as we'll be there soon. Alistair, drink some water. Where's my bloody Mabari?"

Sten pointed wordlessly. Elissa groaned and closed her eyes. When she opened them, the scene was still the same. Ser Galahad was rolling around in the rotting corpses of the now very dead undead. He was panting happily, eyes shining with joy.

"Get out of that mess!" Elissa called at the dog. He jumped up instantly, head cocked and tail wagging.

_What?_ His huge brown eyes seemed to say.

"I can understand you savaging and then rolling in the corpses of Howe's men. But I will not have you play in rotting, festering lumps of flesh, alright?" she told her dog. "It is disgusting."

If Ser Galahad could have pouted, he would have. Instead his eyes widened and he hunched up, tail no longer wagging.

"It's not working," Elissa sighed.

He sneezed and trotted past, head held high and eyes looking pointedly away from her.

"Prat."

Sten was looking thoughtful.

"How does one get a Mabari?" he asked.

"I'll get you one," Elissa said, putting her helmet back one. She picked up her sword and shield, slipping her shield onto her left arm. "Right then, we'll go and rescue Ser Perth."

"He was staring at my butt, you know," Seryll said to Alistair as they walked through the village, Ser Galahad looking longingly at the corpses.

"Yes," Alistair said uncomfortably. "I caught him looking at mine too."

...

"I am glad you are here," said Ser Perth, dubbed the Butt Bandit by Alistair. "It is good to have support."

He was going to say more, but Morrigan lazily cast a small fireball at the oil puddles on the ground ahead and flames soared into the air, crackling loudly.

"Oh well," Morrigan said loudly. "It doesn't matter, for here they come."

And thus did another battle with the undead start.

...

It was dawn when the corpses were dragged into heaps for Morrigan to ignite. Bann Teagan summoned everyone to the Chantry, thanking them for their part in the battle.

"We could not have done it without you," he said. "You are truly friends of Redcliffe."

Elissa nodded, not even smiling. Morrigan looked contemptuous, Sten was being stoic, Alistair looked amazed and Seryll was...nowhere to be seen. Oh well.

"And so I present this to you," Teagan continued, "the Helm of the Red. May you wear it in pride."

He placed it in Elissa's hands.

"Thank you," she replied politely. The crowd whistled and cheered.

"Meet me near the windmill. I have a plan to get into the castle," he whispered, as though it was some state secret. He then smiled at the crowd and walked away.

"Here Alistair, you can have it," Elissa shoved it at him. "I don't want it."

"Why not?" The templar asked as he stared at the helm with reverence.

Elissa shrugged.

"Oh...well thank you, then."

...

Seryll had been selling all of the loot they had collected from the undead. Elissa did not seem to think this immoral, stealing from the dead. She just said "Well the weapons and armour were probably stolen from the castle armoury, anyway."

Alistair wondered why she hadn't just kept them and given the weapons and armour back to Eamon when he got better. But then again this was Elissa, his Warden-Commander who had just gifted him with an awesome helmet. It would be very rude to question her actions, or the actions of Seryll. When it came to Seryll, Alistair thought he was the only one that could see that the alienage elf seemed quite depraved. Garth talked to her a lot, but never mentioned her strange behaviour. Rachel had hated Seryll since he had first met them, and no one knew why. Leliana was...well, Orlesian, so her opinions or insights didn't really matter. Sten probably didn't give a damn and Morrigan was a complete bitch. Elissa usually let the elf do whatever she wanted, except for killing Rachel.

He had also noticed at Ostagar that Seryll seemed to hate people in authority, like King Cailan and Loghain. She also seemed to hate nobles, like Aeducan and again Cailan. The mystery of that was why she didn't hate Elissa. Maybe it was because she had been at Highever with Duncan, and gotten to have known their leader better there? He didn't know.

All he knew was that Seryll was still depraved.

...

"-and then you shall sneak into the castle," Teagan finished triumphantly.

The party members regarded him silently. Seryll thought he was an idiot.

"It is a marvellous plan, no?" he chuckled.

Sten grunted. Elissa was about to say something when she saw a woman running towards them, skirts flapping wildly.

"Teagan! Oh, Teagan!" she yelled, her Orlesian voice high and panicky. Teagan whipped around just as the strange woman tripped and went flying through the air, landing at Elissa's feet. Their leader smiled sadistically, looking down at the lady.

"Isolde, how did you get out - I thought everyone was trapped in the castle?"

The woman began to push herself off the ground. "Get out of my way, you – _you_!" In her shock, she fell back onto the ground, staring up at Elissa, who was not wearing her helmet. "My lady Cousland – we were told you did not live! But here you are, and a Grey Warden!"

"Grey Warden-Commander of Fereldan," Elissa corrected. "And yes, I live. I guess that Howe is spreading rumours that Fergus and I are both dead?"

"Yes. He has announced himself Teyrn of Highever and Arl of Denerim. Loghain has not yet objected-"

"What does _Loghain _have to do with anything?"

Isolde looked surprised, "he has announced himself regent of Fereldan, and blamed King Cailan's death on the Wardens, who he has declared outlaws and traitors. You didn't know?"

Elissa's face was stony hard. "I know now," she said quietly. She looked to the north, and closed her eyes. When she opened them she looked back at Isolde. "You need to tell me everything that's happened at the castle – no lies."

Haltingly, Isolde began her tale.

...

_**Reviews please! Next chapter takes place at the Circle, and Rachel is most horrified to learn that Wynne wants to join the party. Meanwhile Garth learns that Diadrik Surana managed to escape, and Gregoir fears that the highly talented Surana will defect to the Tevinter Imperium!**_

_**Thanks to my reviewers; Halogirl240, keiko, Spirit Wolf, mutive and Diablo321. As always, you're the best!**_


	5. The Circle and That Old Lady

_**So it's the Circle at Lake Calenhad! I skipped most of the Fade section, cos you guys know what happens anyway :)**_

_**Redcliffe Castle next chapter, but enjoy this one for now.**_

_**Edit: 12/1/11. Realised I forgot to put in about Gregoir fearing that Anders and Surana would defect to the Tevinter Imperium. Oops.**_

_**...**_

"_-And so they sailed 'cross the seas,_

_The noble Chevaliers numbered three._

_They braved many a wave and many a storm,_

_Until their luck ran out one Kingsway morn._

_Oh the Chevaliers who numbered three-"_

Leliana was singing. She sang quite well, but it was the subject of the song that was making Rachel feel sick.

"Shut-up about the seas!" Rachel hissed, fists clenching.

"But the seas! So romantic!" Leliana was saying in reply. "The endless pull of the tide, the bob of the boat upon the water – why are you so green?"

Rachel did not answer this. She merely glared at Leliana and hunched over on her wooden bench.

"Oh, you are _sea_-"

"Don't even _say _it," the dwarf growled. A small wave rocked the boat and she screwed her eyes shut.

Garth smiled and shook his head. Carroll, the templar rowing them across, stuck his head over his shoulder. "We're here, so get out now."

Rachel staggered off the boat and vomited off the edge of the jetty.

"This will help," Garth said, and a wave of healing magic washed over her. The dwarf wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and nodded.

"Thanks."

Feeling better, she led Garth and Leliana up to the entry doors. She opened them, and stepped inside.

...

"You there – _Amell_? What in the Maker's name are you doing here?" Gregoir boomed. Rachel shot Garth a quick glance and turned back to Gregoir.

"Grey Warden business. Garth's with me...and so is _she_."

Leliana was looking around the entry hall with awe in her eyes, and so she missed this.

Gregoir frowned. "We thought Amell was dead when he did not return with the other mages. And you say you are a Warden?"

"_Senior _Grey Warden Rachel Aeducan. And you are?" Rachel asked.

"Knight-Commander Gregoir."

Same old Gregoir. Garth could see a whole platoon of templars standing around, all glaring at the door that allowed access to the tower proper. The said door was barred shut and had two guards standing nearby, greatswords drawn.

"Hold on," Garth said to Rachel. He looked back at Gregoir and cleared his throat. "What's happening? Where are the mages?"

Gregoir pursed his lips. "The tower has taken by abominations. I have sent word to Denerim, asking if I can enact the Right of Annulment. For Maker's sake Amell, don't look at me like _that_, what else could I do?"

Garth narrowed his eyes. "Well, you could have done something else!" he snapped in a rare bout of anger. "They're people Gregoir, like you or me! You can't just leave them to die!"

"Okay," Rachel said from next to Garth, "Hold on. You lost me at abominations."

Gregoir looked at the Warden. "Some of the mages have been possessed by fade spirits and have turned into abominations that wreak havoc and are extremely dangerous-"

"-And you're such a little girl that you won't send your men into deal with these abominations," Rachel guessed out loud. "Well, I am a Grey Warden and I have this here treaty that says you are obligated to give me mages," she folded her arms and glared up at Gregoir. "I want my mages."

"I can give you templars instead-"

"I don't want _templars,_" Rachel said scornfully, "from what I saw in Lothering you lot a pretty useless anyway. I want _mages_, because I have seen what Amell can do and it's pretty awesome, alright?"

Gregoir grumbled under his breath. "If you want mages, then you can go into that damned tower and kill all the abominations, and maybe there will be survivors left!"

"Alright then," Rachel said calmly. "I will. Have your men unbar the doors. Leliana, go and find the quarter master and buy more arrows and some poultices."

Leliana trotted off. Garth was still staring at Gregoir.

"Surana! What happened to Diadrik?" He demanded of the Knight-Commander. Gregoir looked directly at the mage.

"Calm down. Diadrik is alive and well. She, erm, managed to escape through some secret tunnel. She walked up to that window over there-" Gregoir pointed at a large arched window near the entrance doors, "-and said 'See, I _told _you I would get out'. Then she waved and ran off."

"Oh. Good," Garth said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Gregoir looked thunderous for a moment. "_Good_? How is it _good _when some Elven mage that can cast very powerful fire spells and heal herself escapes? I can't send any templars out after her, and Rylock is out chasing after Anders again-"

"Anders escaped _too_?"

"Just after you left for Ostagar. I can imagine the two of them now, running about the countryside and terrifying the poor farmers by setting their crops on fire and turning their livestock to stone. Either that, or they've betrayed Fereldan and defected to the Tevinter Imperium. Pah," Gregoir muttered and walked away.

Rachel was waving at Garth. "Hurry up; I want to see what an abomination looks like!"

...

Despite Gregoir's speculation on her current activity, Diadrik Surana was not terrifying farmers with her fellow escapee mage Anders or leaving Fereldan for the Tevinter Imperium. In fact, the short fair haired elf was sitting in a damp cave pulling an arrow out of her calf. But it didn't really matter, because she was a great healer and could summon warmth with a click of her fingers.

Hell, she didn't even know where Anders was (she could make a few guesses though. He had mentioned wanting to visit the Pearl...). But that thought vanished from her mind when she yanked the arrow from her thigh and hissed in pain. She healed the wound and examined the arrow.

The elf sighed and snapped the arrow shaft. She shivered and began to summon a fire to warm herself with.

"I hope that wherever you are, you're safe Garth," she whispered. "Be glad you're not at the tower."

Ha. Little did she know.

...

Some of the mages were alive. Rachel was disappointed that most of them were children (she would _not _send children into battle against darkspawn), and one of the older mages was a thick looking elf who was probably useless. That left the female mage who was talking to someone hidden from sight by a large pillar.

Garth strode ahead of her and the children swarmed around him, clambering for attention.

"Aww, lookit's Amell!"

"Pickerme up!" A boy elf who could not have been older than three shouted loudly. Garth hoisted the boy onto his shoulder and patted one of the heads.

"Greggy said you was dead!"

"Anders 'n Diadrik 'scaped!"

"I know," Garth said gently. "Gregoir is an idiot, though. I'm alive and thankfully so are most of you," he put the small elf boy on the ground and straightened up slowly. Something flashed across his face and Rachel wondered what it was.

"Hello, Garth," said a horribly familiar voice. "It is good to see you."

"And you, Wynne."

Rachel gaped. Now the old mage had stepped out from behind the pillar, holding a staff in one hand. Her beady eyes flicked to Rachel and the old woman smiled, bending down and putting her hands on her knees.

"Hello, my dear little friend! Do you remember me?"

...

"So that is what an abomination looks like," Rachel said, staring down at the grotesque corpse. "Hm."

"I have never seen a more horrible thing in my life," Leliana added, standing next to the dwarf. For the first time ever, Rachel agreed with the Orlesian Horror.

"Yes. Even the darkspawn are more bearable, I suppose. And what is with all of this fleshy stuff lying around?" she asked Garth. "Is that how you mages spend your time? Growing giant piles of meat?"

Garth shook his head. "No, the abominations did that."

"Ah."

They continued on, Rachel holding her axe in her left hand and shield on her right arm. There was a horrifying shriek and a burning red circle appeared on the floor. They watched as the demon pulled itself through the circle to stand in front of them.

"You mages had better be worth all of this," Rachel shot at Garth as the demon began to attack her.

The mage froze it and smiled. "Trust me, we are."

...

There was a naked purple lady standing next to a dopy-looking templar, talking to Rachel in a seductive tone. Leliana thought it was rather strange that the templar was under the control of the purple lady. After all, she wasn't all that good looking and her clothes were rather horrible – if you could call them clothes. They were more like decorative swirls of metal.

"Tell me you don't find her good looking," Rachel muttered to Garth.

He looked affronted. "Of course not! She's a demon – how could you think such a thing?"

"Well, what if she put you under her control and then you attacked us – oh, _really_?"

The bewitched templar was attacking them. Leliana pulled out her shortbow and began to shoot arrows at the gaps in his armour. Rachel was attacking the desire demon which was shrieking in rage and clawing at her. Soon the templar and the desire demon were both dead.

"I really need to get a helmet," Rachel said, bending over the templar's corpse and pulling his helmet off.

"Get the armour too," Leliana suggested.

Rachel grunted and did so. When they had taken everything in the room they walked out, Wynne glaring at Rachel.

"Young lady, could you not have more respect for the dead?" she demanded.

Rachel shrugged. "What? He was dead. I might need his armour to sell or, or-"

"Give his armour to Alistair," Garth suggested. "He was a templar-in-training."

"Yes, I might do that – even though he is very annoying. But what if it's too heavy for him? It is pretty...massive," she frowned and cleared her throat.

Leliana had to say something. "But Elissa wears armour the same size as that."

Garth and Rachel looked offended.

"Yes, but that's _Elissa,_" Garth replied. "Our leader."

"And this is Alistair we are talking about," Rachel added. "Nevertheless, it shall be his."

Wynne pursed her lips and strode ahead. This proved to be her mistake, as she triggered a trip wire and was sent flying backwards by an explosion.

Leliana could have sworn that Rachel was smiling sadistically. Garth sighed, and went to heal the old lady.

...

The Fade was a whole new experience for Rachel. She became a golem and smashed her way through demons and doors, throwing boulders about like they were weightless. She rather enjoyed it, but was puzzled when she came across Garth, who was talking to two apparitions that took the forms of mages.

"Rachel, meet Diadrik and Anders!" He exclaimed happily as Rachel walked towards him. Diadrik was a slender elf with fair hair and icy blue eyes, and she was very pretty. Anders was a human mage with a cheeky grin, hazel eyes and blond hair tied back into a ponytail. Rachel felt really short, but then again, ever since she had been on the surface she had _always _felt short. Hell, Elissa's Mabari was nearly taller than her.

"These aren't your friends, Garth," Rachel said, already guessing this was another Fade trick. He smiled at her.

"Nonsense. Look, here comes Jowan!"

A scruffy mage walked over, scratching the stubble shadowing his jaw line. He gave Rachel a single glance and turned to Garth.

"Stay away from her, Garth. She wants to ruin our fun."

"Yeah, Garth," the blond mage said, "we can't have that now, can we?" he smiled winningly at Garth.

Garth frowned, his shocking blue eyes finding Rachel's dark brown eyes. Something stirred in their blue depths and Garth shook his head minutely. He ran a hand through his longish black hair, still looking at Rachel.

"Is this...true?" he asked haltingly.

She shook her head. "Remember what Gregoir said? He said Diadrik and Anders escaped from the tower. This isn't what you think it is, Garth. It's not real, it's a fantasy. We're in the Fade."

"She's lying," the blond mage said cheerfully. The elf gave her a piercing look.

"I'm not," Rachel told Garth. "I'll prove it. Watch this."

She drew her axe and suddenly the scruffy mage disappeared. He was replaced by a skeleton that charged at Rachel, who put all of her weight behind her shield and shoved the round piece of metal into the skeleton, shattering its ribs. Garth cracked it over the head with his staff and whirled around, hitting the other two skeletons with a frost spell. They were easily finished after that and Garth sat down on a flat rock, looking morose.

"I can't believe I was so stupid...twice this has happened to me, you know," he said to Rachel.

She returned her axe to its place on her back and looked at him curiously.

"Being tricked by the Fade," he continued. "To become a mage, an apprentice has to enter the Fade and defeat a demon. I was tricked by such a demon, and it nearly killed me."

"That's not your fault."

"But I'm a mage! It shouldn't happen _twice,_" he said softly. Rachel was slightly confused as what to say to this (dwarves comforted each other by buying ale and then instigating bar fights), so instead she put a hand on his shoulder.

"Look, this is only my first time in The Fade – and hopefully the last – but it scares the hell out of me. I had a vision too, you know. The only reason I could tell it was a vision because my older brother was nice to me. So don't beat yourself up, because that's my job, okay?" She said awkwardly.

It was the best she could do. But Garth seemed to appreciate it, because he hugged her and then stood up.

"Thanks. And besides, Diadrik was always shorter than that. You're right; The Fade does get some things wrong. So now we have to find Leliana and Wynne, right?"

She nodded and he pulled her to her feet.

...

Uldred was speaking about how awesome his plan was and how Irving (who was the feeble looking old man lying in the corner), was a complete fool. Rachel cut him off, holding her hand up.

"No, no. I will not listen to this seditious drivel anymore, you slimy bastard. I want my mages, and apparently you are the only thing preventing me from getting them," she glared at him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Leliana lay an arrow on her bowstring and Garth pull out the Litany of Andrella. Wynne was yet again pursing her lips as Rachel slipped her round shield onto her right arm and drew her axe with her left.

"Such a pity," Uldred said, yawning. He smiled and suddenly the air around him exploded.

"Oh, nug-licking _ass_..."

The _thing _towered over Rachel, over twice her height. She glared up as the abomination began to speak.

"I am going to _kill _you," it snarled.

She dodged the first swipe and laughed mockingly. "Sorry, but you're nothing compared to the Deep Roads – I spent three weeks in that bloody labyrinth-" she dodged another swipe, "-and it didn't kill me, even though the place was infested with darkspawn, deepstalkers and giant spiders."

A rage demon snarled and rushed towards her. Rachel stepped back, avoiding two simultaneous attacks from Uldred and the demon.

"Enough talk," Uldred snarled. "I will rip your tongue from your head and devour it while you watch. Ha!"

Leliana was defending Garth, who was reading the Litany of Andrella out loud for the second time. She shot another abomination and snorted loudly at Uldred's comment. Uldred howled and picking up a chunk of statue, hurled it at the Orlesian Horror, knocking her unconscious.

Normally Rachel would have clapped him on the shoulder for doing this and then bought him a drink. But seeing as he was trying to kill her, she merely sidestepped another attack and lashed out with her axe, the sharp edge sinking into the abomination's thigh and hitting bone with a grate.

He screeched and kicked at her. Rachel went flying through the air. She hit a pillar and fell to the ground with a thud. She saw stars and her ears rang uncomfortably.

Uldred stalked over, picking her up in one clawed hand. She looked into the monstrous face.

"I would say sorry, but I'm not," she said, grabbing her dagger from her belt and stabbing him in the chest with the blade. Garth and Wynne joined forces and paralysed the giant abomination on the spot, causing him to drop Rachel. She scrambled to her knees as the two mages continued to hit Uldred with every offensive spell they had. He died slowly, and all was silent.

The feeble man in the corner stood up. He walked shakily over to Garth and shook hands with the young mage.

"Well done my boy, well done. Simply magnificent," Irving chuckled. "So good to see you alive."

Wynne looked as though she might cry, staring at the mutilated and grotesque corpse of Uldred. Irving walked past Wynne and to Rachel.

"So you are a Grey Warden, hmm? And you want mages?"

...

It was all good after that. Rachel led the other down to the entry hall, surprised at how many mages came out of hiding and joined them. Gregoir seemed glad that Irving was okay, and he thanked Rachel, but grew more serious when she told him of Cullen and his apparent mental problems.

Elissa had sent a messenger pigeon asking that Rachel bring some mages to Redcliffe (which apparently had fought off a huge hoard of undead and some of the militia needed healing). Gregoir and Irving agreed to this, and then added something else: they wanted Wynne to join the party. Wynne seemed rather pleased by this, as did Gregoir and Irving. Garth was shocked into silence, Leliana began muttering in Orlesian and Rachel said no.

They argued, of course.

"Wynne is a gifted healer," Irving told Rachel.

She folded her arms. "We already have two mages. And besides, don't you think she's a bit old?"

"My, the rudeness," Wynne huffed, staring at Rachel.

The dwarf shrugged. "What? We'll be fighting darkspawn, bandits and feral creatures a lot. We'll be sleeping in the wild, and Elissa said in this letter that winter is approaching. How old are you – eighty?"

"Fifty four," Wynne sniffed. "And I assure you, these old bones will hold up for a while longer."

"Okay, whatever. It's not my decision, it's Elissa's."

Irving and Gregoir were glad, and Irving rounded up four mages to accompany him to Redcliff. They walked outside and waited for their chartered boat to arrive.

...

"Are you not the leader?" Wynne asked Rachel.

The dwarf shrugged. "No. Like I said – _I'm _a senior Grey Warden. Elissa is the Warden-Commander of Fereldan, because Duncan said so on his deathbed, so she's our leader."

"And what is she like?"

"Never seen anyone better with a sword, she's bloody amazing with that blade of hers. She's pretty calm - kind of business like - but she knows how to have a good laugh and can be funny herself. She keeps us from killing each other – which must be pretty damn hard. I respect her a lot, for what she's been through."

"And she's not at all snobby, considering her background," Garth added. At Wynne's look he added, "She's Elissa Cousland, daughter of the Teyrn of Highever. What, you think that's bad or something? Wait until you meet the others. There's a murdering qunari, an alienage elf named Seryll, an ex-templar called Alistair, an apostate-"

"Apostate!"

"-that's Morrigan, then there's me, Rachel, Leliana and Ser Galahad. That's our merry little band!"

...

_**Thanks to my reviewers, Halogirl240 and diablo321.**_


	6. The Meeting and The Elf Mage

_**To be honest with you, I just skipped the whole 'saving Redcliffe Castle segment'. I couldn't write it, which is why this chap took a while. Thanks ;)**_

_**...**_

Rachel had never been so glad to step foot onto dry land. She sighed thankfully while the others got off the boat, just restraining herself from falling to her knees and kissing the ground. Garth snorted, patting her on the back with a quiet chuckle.

She looked up, hearing loud footsteps. Elissa was striding over purposely with a truly wondrous black eye. The bruising was a dark purple and blue surrounding her left eye, fading to green at the edges. She clasped forearms with Rachel, clapping her on the back.

"We've got a problem," Elissa began.

"Yeah?" Rachel said weakly.

"Eamon's son is possessed by a demon."

Rachel sighed again. "Damn demons. I just killed a whole tower full of the bloody things."

...

Whatever Wynne had been expecting Elissa Cousland to be, the actual appearance of the young woman was a bit of a shock. She was tall – standing at around five feet ten inches – with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, a few stray strands falling onto her face. Her eyes were grey, hard and piercing, with lighter silvery flecks. One eye was surrounded by purple and blue bruising. She wore heavy armour that was made of steel and looked unbearably heavy.

Wynne guessed Elissa would not be the type to appreciate a gentle, guiding grandmotherly figure. She looked exactly like Rachel had said – a warrior and a leader, who knew how to laugh. She smiled as she clasped forearms with Rachel, thumping the dwarf on the back.

There was an elf that stood by her side, maybe a year younger than Elissa. She was slim and lithe with long blond hair and wary green eyes, much like a cat's. The elf wore leather armour and had two daggers sheathed at her belt, as well as a dagger strapped to her right boot.

Wynne would try and be grandmotherly to this elf. There was something about her that made her seem innocent – maybe it was the slightly snubbed nose?

But Wynne would soon learn that Seryll was anything but innocent.

Irving stepped forward, "the boy is possessed by a demon?" he asked Elissa. She looked up, stepping forward to shake hands with him. Her gauntlets hung from her belt, covered in some sort of reddish brown substance – it was blood, as Wynne had feared.

"Yes," Elissa replied. "I've got some of my men up at the castle, watching over him. Is there any way we can get rid of the demon without killing Conner? I don't want to murder a child," she said to Irving. Her voice was pleasant enough, midrange and unwavering, with a slight north Fereldan accent to it.

Irving looked back at the mages. "I think we could kill the demon without harming the boy."

"Excellent."

Garth rushed forward and hugged Elissa, and then the female elf (What was with him and being friends with all of the female Wardens anyway? Wynne felt like she had some meddling to do), while Leliana said hello and was greeted in return.

Rachel began to talk. "This is Wynne. She wants to join the party. She can heal."

Elissa looked her over. "Really? Well I'll talk to you later Wynne – I have to go and take the mages to Connor. Can you heal some of the militia?"

Wynne nodded, "of course."

"Thanks."

She was polite enough, but that must have been her upbringing. Yet she looked more at home in a suit of armour than anything else, so Wynne found it hard to imagine her as a noble, taking tea with other women her rank and age.

The elf was speaking to Rachel. "You're such a little shit sometimes."

Oh, dear. Wynne was going to have to cure some bad language!

...

Irving and his mages cured Conner of his unusual problem, afterwards advising Isolde that her son be sent to the Circle as soon as possible. She agreed, hugging a pale Conner to her breast.

Then they went to Arl Eamon's bedroom. Irving and his mages examined the Arl for a bit, and then announced that there was no cure for his sickness. Elissa thanked them and they walked back down to the village to go back to the Circle. It was rather abrupt, but the mages couldn't do anything to help him.

Elissa led the others out into the castle courtyard.

"So what are we going to do?" Seryll asked, sitting on a barrel. Elissa leaned on a nearby wagon and sighed.

"We'll have to chase down this Urn of Sacred Ashes, and then I'm taking the whole party to Mirror Lake – my uncle's Arling – he can offer some support," she added, seeing Rachel's confused glance. "I suppose, after that, we have to go to Orzammer and the Dalish elves. We'll have a meeting about it tonight – the Arlessa has given us the whole east wing to stay in."

"We are going to be so busy," Garth grinned. Leliana had gotten over her strange and brief infatuation with him, but who she was now obsessed with was anyone's guess. "Where are Alistair and Sten? Oh, and Ser Galahad, of course."

"Sten and Galahad are hunting," Elissa replied. "Alistair's walking over here now."

Alistair _was_ approaching them. He and Garth smacked each other on the back, laughing and throwing insults at each other. They disappeared into the kitchens, Garth talking about some 'new playing cards from the Free Marches expansion' he had found in the Circle tower. Elissa said she was going down to the village to get Wynne and tell the mage her decision, Leliana saying she would accompany their leader. That left Seryll and Rachel.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Seryll asked the red haired dwarf after several moments of awkward silence. Rachel looked up, frowning.

"I don't...oh, that..."

"Yeah, _that. _You call me names, you say mean things – don't look at me like that, I'm not emotional, I'm just stating the facts. Hell, you're nearly as bad as Morrigan!"

"Where is Morrigan, by the way?"

Seryll looked up at the sky. "Flying around. She got bored. Don't change the subject!"

Rachel grunted. "Alright, I'm going to tell you what my 'problem' is. Just listen."

Seryll nodded and the dwarf took a deep breath before beginning her story.

"When I lived in Orzammer, I had a friend named Corra – she was an elf, like you. Same height, same hair colour, but her eyes were blue. We were the same age, and I was five when I met her. She caught my father's attention and he decided that she would make a good friend with me. So she lived in the royal palace with me, and we were like sisters.

"Corra had been an orphan, and had come in with some elven traders who were selling their goods in Orzammer. So she hid from them and that's when my father, the King, found her.

"She was accepted as part of the family, really. We went everywhere together – the Provings, shopping, to noble functions. I told her my dream of having the casteless absorbed into mainstream society. She loved the idea, so we agreed that when I became Queen she would be my adviser and together we would make a difference.

"About a year ago I was in a company of soldiers that went into the deep roads. Corra came with me, cos she could fight pretty well too. Along the way she decided to check out this statue. It was a trap, and a giant stone hammer fell on her and killed her. What do you topsiders say? 'Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back'. Yes, well curiosity killed Corra, though she has not returned from the dead because she was satisfied. I do not hate you, Tabris, you just remind me of Corra too much. Except more annoying and outspoken. Nevertheless, I shall try and be nicer from now on."

Seryll really didn't know what to say. Killed by a giant stone hammer. That would suck. Eventually she found some words to say.

"So you don't hate me?"

Rachel pursed her lips. "No, I just find you annoying."

That was somewhat better than hate.

...

Alistair and Garth were sitting at the kitchen table, giggling away merrily. A large pitcher of vintage wine sat on the table, the cause of their merriment.

"And then," Garth snickered. "And then – then – stop laughing! The Revered Mother said – ha ha ha – you can go and tell that to the Templars!"

Alistair howled with laughter and banged his fist on the table, taking a gulp from his goblet. "That's good! Okay, hear this one. A Knight of the Bannorn, a Rivaini pirate and a chevalier walk into the Gnawed Noble tavern. The barkeep says, 'what will you have?' So the pirate asks for a cup of good rum and the Knight of the Bannorn asks for a mug of Fereldan ale. Then the chevalier asks if he can have a strawberry cordial with a dash of wine, you know, one of those fancy Orlesian drinks."

"And then?" Garth asked, resting one arm on the table.

"Then the barkeep says, 'sorry son, we haven't served that since you lot got kicked outta Fereldan!'"

They broke out into laughter again.

"By the stone, that wasn't even funny," Rachel muttered, walking into the kitchen. "Look, Alistair, I got you some new armour."

"Aww, thanks Rachel!"

She dumped it on the table and left. Alistair picked up the breastplate.

"Ooh, templar armour. It's pretty!"

Garth giggled. "You said armour was pretty...I'm so sleepy..."

His head hit the table with a loud thunk.

...

Later that night, everyone sat in the common room of the east wing of Redcliffe Castle. Elissa was about to start the meeting when Rachel yelled loudly;

"Who gave you the shiner?"

Elissa rolled her eyes. "I've had this all day and you ask me about it now. I'll tell you later."

"Boo!" Garth and Rachel jeered in unison.

"Okay, meeting is on. So Rachel has got us our first treaty – the Circle mages. That leaves the dwarves and the Dalish, but we can also ask help from Eamon and my uncle at Mirror Lake."

"Eamon's sick," Seryll said loudly. "How is he going to help us?"

Elissa grabbed a map of Fereldan. "We'll have to track these Ashes down. No idea how, though. Now, after we do the impossible by finding these Ashes, I'm going to lead the whole party to Mirror Lake. I'll ask my uncle for help in the Blight, and after that the party will be split into two. Rachel will take one group to Orzammer and I'll take the other to the Brecilian forest to track down the Dalish elves. By the way, Teyrn Loghain as announced the Wardens traitors and put a bounty on our head. So we can't wear any Warden helmets or wield Warden weapons from now on."

"But I _liked _my Warden helmet," Rachel muttered. "What will we do with our Warden stuff?"

"Keep it here at Redcliffe. I was talking to the smith-" Alistair made a face, "-and he's got some helmets and weapons he can sell us for a discount. Okay, what else needs to be discussed?" she gave Seryll and Rachel a glance. Seryll shook her head and Elissa nodded.

"If I may," Wynne asked slowly. "I would like to know more about the Blight. I was at Ostagar, and the Archdemon was considered a rumour. It never made an appearance. Does it exist?"

The Wardens present in the room all smirked at each other.

"Yes," Elissa said. "Wardens have dreams of the Archdemon."

Wynne paled.

"Oh, yes," Seryll continued enthusiastically. "It's a big purple dragon, and it hisses and roars and screeches, talking to that dirty great horde of darkspawn all the time. So we can tell you it's very, very, _very _real."

"But no one knows where it is," Rachel added.

"For the Old God of beauty, Urthemiel certainly _is _ugly," Seryll was musing to herself.

"I always wondered about that," Alistair chuckled.

Sten grunted and Elissa looked at the qunari. "Why don't you just kill the Archdemon as soon as it is sighted, instead of running around this country chasing after treaties?" he asked gruffly.

"Because no Warden has ever defeated the Blight without an army at their back. We've got mages, but we need elves, dwarves, soldiers...maybe more Wardens. We can't ask the other countries for help, because Loghain's got the borders locked up tighter-"

"-Than my phylactery in Denerim," Garth finished.

"Yes," Elissa smiled at him.

Morrigan sighed, bored with what was happening. "Why not just kill Loghain and use your nobility to seize command of the throne?"

"Because I'd be fighting the Archdemon and the Bannorn at the same time. Believe me, you do not want the Bannorn uniting and revolting against a ruler – unless that ruler is Loghain. If we do what I plan, we'll have the treaties done while the Bannorn falls into civil war and Loghain will be fighting two – no, three enemies. The Bannorn, the Archdemon plus darkspawn and us," she clarified at Leliana's quizzical look.

"A fine plan," Rachel agreed. Seryll was still trying to work out what Elissa had been saying, but the others were nodding their agreement.

"What else was there?" Their leader asked.

"Your eye," Garth prompted.

"Oh, alright. Conner did something to Bann Teagan and some of the Knights that made them do whatever he wanted, so he ordered them to attack us. My helmet got torn off and I got punched in the face. Seryll, stop laughing. Nothing else? Then it's time for bed. Off you go."

...

Wynne wandered down to the kitchens to brew herself a cup of tea. On her way she bumped into a man with a horribly swollen and bruised face.

"Sorry my lady," he apologized. "I was not looking where I was going. I am Teagan."

Eamon's brother, Wynne realised. "I am Wynne – and may I ask what happened to your face?"

He smiled painfully. "My nephew was controlling me with magic. Elissa told the qunari, Sten, to hit me in the face with a shield until I snapped out of it."

"With a _shield_?"

"A shield, yes. She told him to hit me repeatedly. I must go, dear lady."

She watched him walk off, thinking to herself.

...

It was just dawn. Seryll wandered down into the courtyard, yawning widely. She saw the stable doors were open and walked over, hearing Rachel's voice issue from inside the cosy building.

"...a horse in my life. I did ride a bronto a couple of times, though."

Elissa was carrying a small saddle into a stall. "Now's the best time to learn, then. These horses are ours."

"Really? I thought they were Eamon's," Rachel muttered as Seryll walked into the stables. Ser Galahad ambled over and the elf patted the large dog, marvelling at how such a dangerous beast could be so adorable.

"They are. But Isolde said I could have some. Half of the horses never get ridden anyway."

Rachel nodded at Seryll. Elissa was standing near a small shaggy pony, tightening the girth on the pony's saddle. Their leader straightened up and saw Seryll.

"Coming for a ride?"

"Oh, all right. Are you riding that big black brute?" Seryll asked, pointing at a mean looking stallion several stalls away. The stallion noticed Seryll staring and raised its head defiantly, baring large teeth and flattening its ears against its skull.

Elissa raised an eyebrow. "He's not a brute."

"Whatever you say," Seryll retorted. "Can I ride that gelding?"

Elissa nodded. Several minutes later they were riding out the courtyard and across the bridge, taking the path that led out of the village.

"This is so much like riding a bronto," Rachel said, obviously pleased at not falling off. Seryll was also enjoying riding her gelding, which was a nice looking horse – unlike that ugly looking stallion Elissa rode. They all bore their weapons, for Wardens could never be too careful these days.

Seryll relaxed. They were entering the woods now, the path lit by sunbeams piercing through the canopy to light the trail ahead. Galahad bounded alongside Elissa and her horse, looking like a huge, overgrown puppy.

There was a strange sensation in her body, like a tingling in her blood. Seryll realised what was happening and her head snapped up.

"There's darkspawn around. I can sense them," she told Rachel and Elissa quietly.

They reined in their horses and dismounted as quietly as they could. Elissa drew her sword and looked around, frowning.

"I can sense them now too. I think they're ahead, around that bend."

They crept forward, and had just rounded the bend when there was a loud crackling sound and a huge ball of fire roared towards them. Elissa yelled a warning and dived out of the way, pushing Rachel with her. Seryll leapt the other way, landing in the dirt with a loud thud. She scrambled to her feet to find about five darkspawn rushing out of the trees – ignoring the Wardens and heading for a robed figure standing in the middle of the trail. The figure raised a gnarled staff, chanting under their breath.

Seryll rushed at the darkspawn with Rachel, Elissa and Galahad, stabbing one with her daggers and killing it before it knew what was happening. Rachel was hacking at a hurlock's legs while Elissa had managed to impale another hurlock on her sword. Galahad was snarling and mauling every darkspawn limb that came into his sight, looking truly terrifying.

And then the darkspawn were all dead. Rachel was muttering angrily under her breath, asking herself why she hadn't worn armour.

"I'm so sorry," said a well spoken, soft voice. "I didn't know you were Wardens, you see, and I thought you were darkspawn. So I cast that fireball at you."

Seryll looked up and saw a petite elf wearing mage robes talking to Elissa. The elf had thrown back her hood, and was now looking at Elissa.

"I'm going to get the horses," Rachel grumbled and walked off.

Elissa stared at the new elf. "I never said we were Wardens," she said slowly, resting one hand on the pommel of her sword, pressing the tip into the ground.

The elf nodded. "I know. But it was sort of obvious, most people run screaming from the darkspawn, while you just leapt in there and started slaughtering the,. Plus you're covered in darkspawn blood and don't seem to care."

"Owww!" Rachel howled from around the bend. Elissa's stallion was evidently giving her trouble.

"You're a mage. Did you escape from the tower?"

Rachel re-joined them, rubbing her arm and glaring daggers at the black stallion. She heard Elissa's question and cleared her throat.

"You don't happen to be Diadrik Surana, do you?" she asked the elf.

"I am, yes," the elf replied slowly. "How would you happen to know that?"

"Garth talked about you," Rachel said. "Garth Amell. He was right, you _are _short."

Seryll coughed mockingly. "You can hardly talk."

...

_**Seeing as Bioware seemed to use Irish names for people who came from Highever, I always imagined my Cousland (regardless of gender) with a slight Irish accent – nothing too strong, just a trace. No idea why.**_

_**Thanks to my reviewers; mutive, mousestalker, Shovelar and Halogirl240. Needless to say, you are awesome ;)**_


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